


Nobody Else Will Be There

by shytrash



Series: Angst and Sadness [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Angst, Anxiety, Casual Sex, Cocaine, Depression, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, F/M, Guilt, Marijuana, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recreational Drug Use, Rehabilitation, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-03-07 08:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shytrash/pseuds/shytrash
Summary: Tony's drowning in guilt and alcohol after his gigantic fuck-up known as Ultron and the complete destruction of Sovokia. He's spiralling, knows he's spiralling and can't stop it. Won't stop it. He lets the guilt take him down the same path of self-destruction he's been down before.





	1. Back Here, Where Everything Slipped

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, so. We're here again.  
> There's been major changes made to this story, I felt like the timing of the other one was not as well planned out and I wanted it to flow, wanted a story that felt right to me. Third time is a charm. I am actually very happy with how this is panning out.

He wondered when everything around him became so dull. The colours faded out of his surroundings, becoming muted and lifeless. As he walked through the empty lounge room, his ever working mind finally slowed down as his eyes drifted across his view of New York city. It was late, yet the lights from the city made the skyline almost glow a faint white against the black of the sky. If he didn’t find somewhere to lay down, his legs would give way in a few minutes. His body ached, deep down into his bones, with exhaustion that wasn’t caused by his unhealthy working binges. 

 

“Where are you going, Tony?” He heard someone yell, a deep voice calling out for him. Steve? Clint? He had no clue. 

 

Tony physically couldn't bring himself to turn around and find out who it was, so he yelled “ _ work,” _ over his shoulder and kept walking. Whoever it wasn't knew better than to try and stop him. 

 

Once he was down in the safety of his lab, the mechanic collapsed on the nearest couch. The bots were whirring and beeping, slowly making their way over to their already half asleep  creator. His eyes were heavy, his mind shutting down and forcing him to sleep, even if it was for a few hours. Just enough to make sure he was functional so he could finish working.

 

It was becoming harder and harder to find the motivation to work, he would start to pull up plans and blueprints, he would try and lose himself in the work. However the stimulation his mind needed to keep him together wasn’t being fulfilled as he usually ends up sitting at his bench and staring at the mess before him. Burying himself in his work isn’t working anymore. 

 

It’s almost like waves. Slowly the tide comes in, a subtle numbness that pulls at the edges of his mind, a black fuzziness that almost seems blissful and pleasant, the desire to give in and let it wash over himself was hard to ignore - until suddenly the waves were crashing over him, pulling him down, forcing the air out of his lungs and  _ suffocating _ him as he struggled against it until he couldn’t do it anymore. Until he was left shaking, breaths coming out in short gasps as the familiar feeling of emptiness spread throughout his veins like the cold. Sometime, the unsettling emotional state would make him shut down completely, and he could sleep for days. He would wake up every couple of hours and still feel the heavy weight on his chest, rendering him unable to do anything else but go back to sleep and he was  _ almost _ thankful for the dreamless sleep that followed.

 

-

 

When he opened his eyes next, the workshop was covered in darkness. It was quiet and Tony wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep. No one had come down to wake him up, or maybe Friday had kept them away for him.

.

Even though his bones still ached, Tony pulled himself up slowly and rested his head on the back of the couch, letting his eyes slide shut. The side of his head was throbbing and he was dying for something to drink, something golden-brown that burned on the way down.

 

“Friday, what’s the time?” His voice was so quiet in the large room, all of his usual sass and enthusiasm drained away. 

 

“It is 6:15 at night.” His eyes snapped open at Friday’s answer. 

 

“Fuck, really? What time did I go to sleep?” he groaned, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair, cringing at the feel of it.  _ Shower. Shower and a drink.  _

 

“Boss, you fell asleep at 2 o’clock Sunday morning. You have slept a total of sixteen hours and fifteen minutes.” She spoke softly, her irish accent just loud enough for him to hear. He was so thankful.

 

He managed to sleep for a full fucking sixteen hours? It’s been ages since that’s happened. Granted, he didn’t feel much better than he did before he crashed, but at least he was able to sleep for more than four hours.  _ Way _ longer than four hours. It took him awhile to find the motivation to stand up, his legs feeling like jelly as he pushed himself up, however now that the lab wasn’t pitch black he could find something to fulfil his needs. Walking was his next big task. He felt unsteady as he pushed himself off of the couch, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep on the fucking thing, he’s getting old. His back will never forgive him.

 

The nearest workbench was covered in little pieces of metal, half finish gauntlets that will probably never be finished, if he’s honest. There was blueprints and pieces of paper filled with his messiest handwriting, the kind of scribbles that only make an appearance after three in the morning and seven cups of coffee. Opening the bottom drawer next to him, he scanned the drawer for a small bottle of scotch. He kept mini-sized bottles of alcohol scattered throughout his lab, which was probably more pathetic than he cared to admit. 

 

“No access to the workshop, for anyone. Disable override commands.” It shouldn’t be that easy to block himself off, however alone was what he wanted. What he needed to be able to get through this without dragging anyone else down. He did not want or need anyone else's pity. To the outside world, he is Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, witty and downright handsome. When his moods plummeted like this he only wanted Rhodey around, and that was simply because Rhodey had been there for him, always. Had seen all of his bad sides and had  _ stayed.  _ They had a bond that seemed unbreakable - although Tony always knew it could be broken if he stepped too far out of line. 

 

When he opens the tiny bottle of liquor, he tries not to think about Sokovia falling out of the sky when he swallows the first mouthful. 

  
  


-

 

Soon enough he ends up sitting on the stool at his workbench, the bottom drawer open and empty of all ridiculously tiny liquor bottles. The empty bottles themselves are littered around the room, or they’ve been smashed. Tony’s tempted to throw more across the room so he can watch them shatter all over the floor. It's almost mesmerizing, watching the little pieces of glass dance across the floor until they lay still, broken into shards so small that it’s impossible to even think about putting them back together.

 

He could hear his phone vibrating across the table. It’s probably Pepper, Tony knew, and he  _ should _ answer it. The idea of listening to his former girlfriend seems unbearable right now though, so he chooses to ignore it. He doesn’t need to be reminded of yet another part of his life his managed to mess up. Whenever he thinks about how it went wrong with Pepper, he can’t help but think about the team that’s living in his tower. Another major mess up on his behalf. They’ve hardly spoken to him in weeks, maybe months if he could remember what day it was, and there’s some very clear and obvious tension brewing. 

 

They work well without him, though. He doesn't feel overly close to any of them anymore, definitely not after everything that's happened. He’s chosen to stop going on most missions. Iron Man and his skills aren’t as needed as the others. They’re  _ real  _ superheroes. It's fine, though, because it’s not like he  _ needs  _ them. He merely  _ wants  _ them, wants the family unit they had become before everything unfolded. Nowadays, he simply provides them with shelter, food, money and whatever else they need. That's enough. Enough to keep them at arm's length and not a fucking inch closer. It isn’t like any of them actively seek out a relationship with the genius either, not after Ultron and the destruction in Sokovia that was completely his fault. 

 

Tony sighed as he picked up his now silent phone, scrolling through the list of people who've tried to reach him. Seven missed calls from Pep, five from Happy, and finally another four from Rhodey. Anger flared up in the tipsy genius and he felt the need to throw his phone across the room, watch it shatter and break amongst all the glass. He’s allowed to be alone, he’s allowed to want his privacy and time away without being cared after like he’s fragile, like he needs to be babysat. Somehow it’s now six in the morning, his phone tells him, and he needs to get out of his lab before he loses his mind.

 

Once he knew none of the team members were around,  _ thank God for Friday,  _ he decided it was safe to move up to the penthouse. Away from anyone trying to talk to him, pity him and offer their  _ help  _ like it was something he needed. No. He was Tony fucking Stark. He did not need anyone to save him from the black hole of guilt and misery he was letting himself be sucked into. After all, isn’t it what he deserved for the pain and destruction he caused?

 

The halls were empty and dimly lit as he walked to the elevator, and Tony couldn’t help but remember when he would walk through these halls with Bruce, eager to get to the lab and create together. “Penthouse, boss?” Friday’s voice was right above him in the elevator and he almost jumped out of his damn skin. 

 

“Yes, please.” His voice was hoarse and scratchy compared to Friday’s smooth quiet tone. The ride up seemed to go on forever and relief flooded through Tony when the doors opened and he was on his own floor, with no one allowed access, and nothing for him to do except drink and sleep, or something along those lines. 

 

He decided to sit on the balcony, at the spot where Thor and Loki fought a few years ago. When he pushed open the balcony door, bottle of half empty bourbon in hand, he was relieved it was cool out. He sat so his legs were hanging off the edge and he took a swig of the amber liquid. Sitting out here meant his thoughts always drifted back to the famous Battle of New York. The manic look in Loki’s eyes as he pressed the sceptre to Tony’s chest, and when the wormhole had opened up and these monsters that Tony had only ever saw in movies flew out of the fucking sky. It was an event that changed the whole world

 

The memories of flying the missile into that fucking wormhole still makes his breathing uneven. Images of the large alien ship in floating mid-space haunted him. The thousands of terrifying creatures flying towards him, nothing but destruction planned. His skin was hot and his hands were shaking suddenly, his whole body was fucking shaking. His breathing was fast and shallow and what felt like hours passed as Tony desperately tried to calm himself down. The thoughts of Pepper’s voicemail and the knowledge that he would die without hearing her voice were threatening to push him over the edge and straight into a full blown meltdown. His hand rubbed where the arc reactor used to be, and he missed the sound of it humming quietly sometimes. It was better than the total silence he was left in. 

 

Laying down against the cool balcony, the genius was finally managing to get his breathing under control, although he was still shaking slightly. He can’t help but wonder how big of a deal it would be if he ‘accidentally' slipped off the ledge. Would he regret it halfway down? Scream for a suit and hope it reaches him in time? Tony thinks it would be peaceful. To finally let go, shed the guilt and rage that weighs him down so heavily. To be done with the issues he faces and to stop ruining so many people's lives.  _ Nobody would be too upset,  _ he thinks.  _ Not after everything I’ve done.  _ Plus, they really could rule his death an accident with how drunk he is right now. He hadn’t meant to drink so much, he didn’t even realize he had until he came out here. So, he lays there with his mind struggling to control his thoughts until the sky started to brighten and he finally decided it was time to stumble to the couch and pass out.

 

-

 

Tony Stark stayed in isolation for the following three weeks until he emerged, standing in the communal kitchen while he waited for his coffee to finish, mid Tuesday morning. He wasn't sure why the team has a better coffee machine than he did, this was _his_ tower, after all. He made a mental note to have Friday buy one for his floor, or swap his one with this so they could deal with lesser quality coffees because he enjoys being petty. While he stood leaning against the counter across from the coffee machine that buzzed and whirred silently, he could feel eyes on his back. Most of the team were at the table, eating a meal together. Breakfast? Lunch? Brunch? It was bright outside, but he has no clue what the time is. 

 

“Where have you been, Stark?” Natasha’s voice was cold, like ice that slid down his back unpleasantly. 

 

“Why? Miss me?” He replied sarcastically. “I’m sure Friday has kept you guys updated.” 

 

“She says you've been in the penthouse. For three whole weeks? What have you been doing up there?!” Tony could hear Steve’s chair scrape across the floor as he stood, anger and concern and  _ patriotism _ painfully clear in his words. 

 

“I've been busy, Rogers.  _ Working.  _ It's almost like you guys forget I own a very successful business.” He knew it was bullshit, knew they knew it was bullshit, but didn't care. Of course he didn’t completely lock himself in the penthouse, he did use his private elevator to travel down to his workshop a couple times - but they didn’t need that information. He pulled out a small flask, unscrewing the lid to pour a decent amount of his favourite alcohol into his hot coffee, and it was then he could basically hear Steve's mouth fall open. 

 

“It's eleven in the fucking morning, Tony!” Clint almost growled and the genius smirked to himself. 

 

“It helps with the hangover, Bird brain. I didn't know you cared so much.” He looked over his shoulder as his icy words caused Clint to stare daggers at the older man. 

 

Tony decided it was time to leave after that. The Captain, and the rest of the team, pestering him was unnecessary and he didn't fucking want  _ or  _ need it. Not from him, not from any of them. He ignored his name being called and he tried to stop himself from running to the elevator, back to the safety of his lab. It was easier to keep them away, obviously, keep them as far as he could to avoid them getting in his way. He only went down there to see Rhodey.

 

When the elevator doors opened, he almost stumbled out, head pounding and eyes burning with how bright it was down here, he tried to focus on keeping himself upright to avoid spilling his precious coffee. Maybe he should install a workshop on his private floor, he thought to himself, save the trips back up to his floor. Currently, his lab was eight floors below his penthouse. It was below the communal living and kitchen area, as well as the shared living floors the team had. He thought it would be a bit safer this way, although now he doesn’t care as much.

 

Tony didn’t realize just how fucking tired he was as he stretched and walked across his lab. Three weeks spent up on his floor, ignoring phone calls and sleeping too much. His body ached from passing out in awkward positions, drunk out of his mind. He sat on his stool and chose to inspect the project that covered his workbench since before he went into lockdown. The lab hadn’t changed in the three weeks he locked himself away, the bots usually kept it clean and tidy for him when they weren’t bringing bits and pieces to the penthouse for him. 

 

-

 

Dropping the prototype mini arc reactor, the inventor groaned as his back protested at the angle he was sitting in. Honestly, he couldn’t remember too much of the last three weeks. He does know he was drunk for a lot of it and he was so thankful he could get alcohol delivered to him up here. Sure, it was weird to ask the delivery guys to leave alcohol in the elevator, but when you’re Tony Stark, who the fuck cares what people think? 

 

It was getting harder to feel anything these days, unless he was drunk and crying or yelling at nobody in particular, anger pouring out of him. Maybe Tony was in too deep, too far gone for him to be able to pull himself out of this. If he had any sense at all he would call Rhodey, demand he comes up so Tony can open up to him and tell him how messed up he’s getting. 

 

Since when has Tony Stark ever done the right thing?

 


	2. When I Die

He turned his phone off after a couple of days once he knew that he wouldn’t stop hearing his Metallica ringtone going off every second. Friday was under strict instruction to only let through urgent notifications that  _ weren’t  _ just Pepper wanting to know how he’s doing and  _ would you please just answer my messages, Tony, I’m worried  _ from Steve, of all people _.  _ Eventually, Tony heard less and less from Friday as the days started to melt together. Tony trusted Pepper, she knew he trusted her with his damn  _ life  _ \- even if things ended badly between them _.  _ She's smart, so fucking smart, so Tony doesn't feel too bad for ignoring her when it comes to business. She can do a great job without him, has been doing so for ages. 

 

Rhodey called a lot too, although now the older man started to email him now his phone goes straight to voicemail. Tony doesn’t like to read them but he can’t help but hang onto every word he sends. They fill him to the brim with guilt that threatens to overflow with each new arrival. Sometimes they're long and talk about what's happening with the team and War Machine. Sometimes they're short, simple messages that reminded him that Rhodey would drop everything and come help him _._ It makes the mechanics chest ache, the desire to type a simple reply burning within him. No matter how hard he tries his hands can’t type out a simple _come, please._

 

Rhodey has always been Tony’s annoying, protective mother-hen. Ever since meeting him in MIT Rhodey was there, making sure the younger man would get back to their dorm safely after a party, no matter how messy and out of control he was. When Tony woke up, head pounding and unable to bear anything but darkness and minimal loud noises, there would be painkillers and water next to his bed, possibly a bucket as well if he thought it was needed. Granted, there was certainly times when the older man would scold Tony. They would fight over his drinking and immature behaviour. After his parents death, the young genius went steadily and rapidly downhill. 

 

Now, years later, the pair have been through shit nobody saw coming. Tony knows and appreciates how much Rhodey cares for him and Tony doesn’t think he’s ever loved somebody that he hasn’t slept with so much. When Tony began to pull back from the team, War Machine almost begged him to come on missions, to suit up and do what Iron Man loves doing. Tony pulled harder though, the suit had become an issue since Ultron \- Tony couldn’t be in it for long periods of time anymore. He’s unsure of his suits power, if he’s making proper judgements on the field. It leaves him unguarded and vulnerable on missions and that was something that War Machine understood and so, slowly he stepped back and let Iron Man take the backseat. 

 

Steve, on the other hand, had been very happy at Iron Man’s lack of presence in the group. He had made it clear that he thought Tony needed some time away after this disaster that was Ultron. The pair have always been on thin ice around each other, although lately that ice has finally started to crack. There’s simply too much bad blood between them now, from their harsh and sometimes scathting views of each other to Steve’s lack of knowledge on the kind of man Howard Stark  _ really _ was. It’s hard for Tony to be in the same room as the Captain, who oozes patriotism at every angle, all spandex and self-righteousness. His father's true work of art, the one thing Howard always praised as his best work standing right in front of his eyes. It almost pained him, if he wasn’t too busy pretending to deny his feelings on the matter.

 

Tony knew that Grandpa Rogers would _never_ believe that his close friend Howard Stark was an abusive shitstain. The constant _you're not good enough_ and _you're not a real man, not like Captain America,_ was what he heard almost daily from his father _._ It was endless, even when the genius graduated from MIT at the top of his class, aced all of his subjects to prove he could do it, it wasn’t enough to make his father proud of him. Howard didn't attend his graduation, either. Howard didn't even say congratulations. Eventually, the disappointment Tony felt made way for anger and resentment when his father continued to let him down throughout his life. There’s a grudge there that has lasted for the rest of Tony's life, even though his father's been dead for over a decade now. 

 

-

 

“Friday, distract me. Talk, play music. Just do something, please.” Tony's voice was hoarse, his throat ached with the need for his favourite numbing liquid. He sounded so small in his vast bedroom suddenly. He was huddled into the corner of his bed, back against the wall. There was a half empty bottle of vodka in his lap, lid missing somewhere within his sheets. He didn’t feel the burn of the vodka as he held the bottle to his lips. 

 

His AI’s voice filled the room and he listened, trying to focus on keeping his breathing even. She talked about the robots and how they were doing, changes in climate change, and numerous other mind numbing topics until the feeling of panic and pain receded to a bearable level. He thought back to the times he would sit in the Malibu house, drink in hand while he sat in his lab, asking Jarvis to talk to him when he was overwhelmed or wound up. Jarvis, the butler, was the first major death Tony had to deal with in his life and he clearly remembers when he decided to make the artificial intelligence to commemorate his beloved Jarvis forever.

 

Tony had spent two weeks partying, drinking, snorting lines of varying substances off of chicks just as fucked up as him at the time. He tried his damn best to be such a mess that he couldn’t think about Jarvis at all anymore, which seemed childish to his father, but the pain he had felt was deep and overwhelming. Rhodey had only known him for a short while, however it was clear he was more worried than usual for the younger man than he was when they first met. The grief he had felt at losing his Jarvis had crushed him and when the partying wasn’t helping, wasn’t numbing the pain to a bearable level he could withstand, he had to put his mind to work and decided to make sure he  _ always _ had a reminder of Jarvis.

 

He had spent months working on getting Jarvis’ voice  _ exactly _ right. That was the biggest part of the AI to him. Of course Rhodey had thought it wasn’t healthy to create an artificial intelligence with the voice of his recently deceased butler, in the grand scheme of things, however, it was probably one of the most sane things he had done. Once he had Jarvis stable enough to do basic commands, even Rhodey was impressed and saw how it made Tony start to smile when he heard Jarvis talk back to him. It helped, he began to grieve instead of burying it all. The list of people who he grieves for keeps growing throughout his life though, and now it was getting too long to keep track of. All the guilt that he had weighed him down, the heavy weight on his chest, reminded him too much of being pushed down underneath the mass that was Sovokia. 

 

Tony, as quickly as he could in his drunk as fuck state, began to climb out of bed, suddenly overcome with the urge to get out and leave the tower so he could go somewhere to truly try to forget about  _ everything.  _ Even if it’s simply for a few hours, so he can try to feel a bit more normal, more like himself. He knows he can’t stay locked up in his tower forever, he would go-  _ is  _ going insane. His tower suddenly seemed too small, almost like the walls are beginning to close in on him and he is not drunk enough to deal with this - luckily he still has his half empty bottle of vodka in his hand.

 

He makes his way to the garage after trying to make himself look more put together than he really is, making sure Friday doesn’t open the elevator for anyone at all. Although, he wasn’t quite sure who was even awake at two in the morning on a Sunday night in the tower. Probably Bruce. When he gets there, a taxi is waiting for him and he once again thanks himself for creating only the very best artificial intelligences in the world. Better than waking up Happy and dealing with _that._ Happy cares deeply for him, the genius knows he does, but he doesn’t want Hap’s worrying looks and questions and the _guilt_ he feels when he sees his friend _._

 

Friday was under strict rules to keep his whereabouts hidden from the others, unless something was wrong. This way he could relax and not worry about his team trying to drag him back to the tower. Maybe he was being overdramatic, maybe the team wouldn’t even ask for his location, yet he can’t help himself. He doesn’t want to be found for a while, he doesn’t know how long.

 

The cab ride was silent, the driver hardly paid attention to him, which was a silent blessing. He let himself relax now that the tower was beginning to fade into the distance. The streets of New York weren’t as full as the previous night, and Tony couldn’t help but notice the buildings change forever by Loki’s attempt at world domination. Most of the city was rebuilt fairly quickly after the whole Loki incident, but there’s still areas that haven’t been completely finished yet and it was hard for Tony to look at the reminders of what happened as he sat in the cab. It filled him with not only guilt, once again, because everything fucking makes him feel guilty nowadays, but complete and utter dread. The feeling of looking out into endless space and knowing this was just the start of it all.

 

Eventually the cab pulled up next to a club that Tony knew looked extremely sleazy. He used to come here a lot. Mainly because he could sit at the bar and drink himself to death and nobody would stop him, or ask to take a photo with him. To them, Tony Stark was just another body in the club who wanted to be left alone to his own devices, and they did not care at all. It was exactly what he needed. He threw a handful of notes at the cab driver, ensuring that he gave the driver enough to keep quiet in case  _ anybody  _ had questions for him about Tony Stark's late night travels.

 

-

 

“Fuck,” he said to nobody in particular, looking down and attempting to see exactly how much vodka he had managed to spill onto his jeans. When he realized it wasn’t enough for him to care, he downed the rest of the shot he held in his hands and tried his best to place the empty shot glass on the bar in front of him without knocking it over and bringing attention to how much of a mess he is. 

 

The music here was loud, but not too loud where his head hurt and he wanted to leave. Loud enough that it was hard for him to hear his own thoughts properly, instead all he could do was sit and sway to the music. Last time he looked at his watch it was almost four in the morning. This place was beginning to slow down, people stumbling out and waiting for cabs. The idea of heading back to the tower didn’t sit well with Tony, he didn’t want to go back there and be stuck with reminders of his many, many mistakes. 

 

Instead, he decides to leave the club and head further into the dodgy neighbourhood he’s currently in, determined to find something stronger than alcohol to clear his head.


	3. If You Wanna Be Alone, Come With Me

Some small part of Tony should feel bad that it’s so easy for him to slip back into the self destructive behaviours he told himself he gave up so easily. He doesn’t question it though, hardly gives the thought a chance to take root and make him panic. No, he’s clearing his head, ignoring the CEO of his company and his friends and it’s  _ working _ for him. Sure, he might not be sleeping very much (most nights he doesn’t even bother trying), he hasn’t shaved in a few days (weeks?), and he hasn’t talked to anybody who knows him on a personal level in forever, but it’s fine.

 

Granted, he's fucking  _ gone _ , but there's no guilt, no sadness or frustration or bullshit. He's Tony, not Tony Stark or Iron Man. His walls are down and he's enjoying just.. Being. Simply being. It's different from his usual parade of self confidence and cockiness that most people expect from him and it's a nice break from being locked away in his tower, letting his misery slowly kill him. And yeah, drugs might slowly kill him too, but damn it's kinda worth it. These self destructive behaviours have been with Tony his whole life, it was only in recent years he was able to pull himself together somewhat. It was mainly for Pepper, and also because he knew he would be buried in the ground years ago if he didn't  _ try  _ to control himself. Iron Man needed him alive, at the time.

 

Some nights the genius craved to be back at a party, nothing to worry about except where a drink is. He misses having no major responsibilities, being able to slip away somewhere for a couple weeks and not worry about returning to a total shit storm. That's selfish, isn't it? Wanting, longing, to be free to get fucked up and lose track of time, of the days. Tony has always been selfish, though. At least he knows he is. Like the report says, he doesn't play well with others, narcissistic. Driven by his ego. He comes with as many flaws as Justin Hammer's fucking technology. Right now, as he took another long drag from the joint, watching the sun begin to rise over the city he called home, he didn't care. Maybe he's just meant to be a selfish asshole. 

 

He thought about the team. What would they say if they knew what he was up to? That he didn't plan to go home at all, but to find somewhere to sleep for a couple hours until it was late enough to go out and head to another bar. Are they wondering where he is, maybe? Friday has been quiet, he hasn't really wanted to hear her voice anyway. Sometimes it's painful and reminds him of having Jarvis taken from him  _ again.  _ It's like the AI understands, and has kept her distance from him. He's grateful and ashamed that he struggles to talk to something he himself made from time to time.  

 

Taking his phone out, he scrolls through missed notifications. It's the usual. Couple phone calls from Pep again, emails from Steve, Rhodey and even  _ Bruce _ . That's a first. He's tempted to open it and read the scientists message, but he doesn't need anything to interrupt his mood, not now, not when he's finally able to go a solid ten minutes without thinking about anything too important. The need to find a soft surface to pass out on is becoming a huge priority, his body feeling heavy and slow as he finishes off his joint and makes his way inside, eyes lingering on his tower that stands out his view of New York before closing the door to the balcony, leaving all thoughts about his team and their worries messages behind him.  

 

It wasn’t an option to go back to the tower now, not after he decided to get incredibly stoned, anyway. If anybody at the tower saw him rock up in the early morning smelling like various alcoholic drinks and other substances, he knew he would get his ass handed to him. So, being a genius and all, he decided to stay in a hotel. Nothing too fancy, since he wants privacy, but someplace with a king bed and a decent shower. As he lets himself fall onto the bed, enjoying the softness of the pillows, he hopes that he doesn’t dream tonight.

 

-

 

It’s dark when Tony opens his eyes, which was an incredibly hard task since his head was screaming in protest, he looks at the alarm clock next to the shitty bed he’s lying on and wishes he was sleeping back in  _ his  _ bed for a moment. The clock reads 7:38 and he groans, aspirin, then a very long shower, Tony decides. Maybe food after that, he isn’t sure if he’s capable of keeping it down right now as he feels his stomach roll uncomfortably. 

 

Once he was showered and dressed in the same black jeans and band t-shirt from last night, Tony headed to the nearest bar. As the days blended together, the genius avoided sleep until he passed out, body aching and he avoided looking in the mirror when he went into the bathroom now too. He changed hotel rooms every couple of nights and put his body through absolute hell, ignoring the way he woke up stiff and sore, choosing to light another joint until he felt calm and all the stress had left his body. 

 

Eventually, he started bringing girls back to the hotels with him. By the time they made it back to where he was staying, he had to take something or down a couple shots just to sleep with them. It was messy and rough, but that was what he needed. And if he woke up with a couple bruises and hickeys, so what? Nobody can comment on it because nobody cares, the women he brings back are always, if not more, messed up like he is and wanting the same thing - to feel something other than pain, guilt, self-loathing or sadness for a while. 

 

Two weeks after he left the tower, he decided it was time to head home. Honestly, he just missed his bed and the fact that Friday always made sure the windows were fully blacked out. He was getting sick of waking up because the sun was too damn bright, even with all the curtains pulled down. Tony stumbled out of a strip club, not sure what time it was because his phone had died at least two days ago. He can’t remember where he put his watch after the first hotel he stayed at. 

 

All he knows is, he smells like filth, his body is aching with a tiredness that has seemed to settle into his bones and he wants to sleep for at least fifteen hours uninterrupted in a soft bed, although he doubts he’ll get that much. Strip clubs had never really been his thing, but it was the only thing open now and he had managed to get his on a couple of small, clear plastic baggies filled with a white powder that promised him a dreamless sleep, something that he needed or else he faced fully falling apart - if that was possible.

 

The short cab ride to the tower was spent staring out the window, wishing he wasn’t as sober as he currently was. During his two weeks away from the tower, Tony tried his best to spend as little time as he could sober. He quickly learned that if he was clear headed and coherent, his thoughts would stray and suddenly every time he closed his eyes he saw the same damn thing. All of his team members dead, even Thor and Hulk lying among the pile of lifeless bodies. It chilled him to his fucking core, haunted him until he felt like he was going to be physically ill. A couple times he was, but nobody needs to know that. 

 

As he got out of the cab, another generous wad of bills thrown to the driver, he let his feet carry him to the elevator, to Friday, who would know exactly where to take him. Friday greets him with a simple  _ boss  _ and Tony nods, releasing a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding when he feels the elevator start to move. His only thoughts were on his bed waiting for him, waiting to welcome him with open arms even if he is a complete trainwreck. There was a clear baggie in Tony’s hand. He hadn’t realized he took it out of his pocket, but there it was and he was alone in the overly large elevator. Nothing to stop him from opening the bag up, tipping a small messy line onto the back of his hand. He’s halfway through snorting it when he feels the elevator starting to stop and he feels more than ready for a shower now.

 

When the elevator fully stops, pushing him forwards a little with the movement, he was rubbing his nose and getting ready to stop forward when the doors open to reveal a very sleep deprived looking and concerned Captain America. Tony instantly pales, body freezing up before he can move anymore. “Stark.” The captain says, taking a step into the elevator. 

 

There was a small white bag of cocaine in Tony’s other hand and he tense his hand, shoving it straight into his jeans pocket while he stared at the super soldier in front of him. He knew he must’ve looked like a deer in headlights and he felt the hot sting of betrayal from Friday. “Steve,” he coughed out, feeling as if he’s choking on air. “What’s happening?” he tried to play casual indifference.

 

The man in question was staring at him. At his hand with the remnants of cocaine pressed up against his nose, the hand shoved in his pocket so fast it was like he was burned. Tony knew he was caught in the act. “Let me explain, this isn’t what it looks like. Okay, well, it is what it looks like. It was a once off, Cap. Just a party that got a little too wild, that’s all.” He was speaking too fast, thoughts racing to try and think of a way to get himself out of this mess. 

 

“Give it to me.” Steve’s voice was cold, unnervingly so. His blue eyes looked down at the hand in his jeans. 

 

“Okay, but Cap, please, if I give it to you please don’t tell anyone. Please.” It was wrong of him to ask this, he knew. Dealing with Rhodey when he found out just seemed too much to bear, however. “I’ll give it to you. Here,” he took his fist out of his pocket, turning it upward and opening his hand to reveal one of the bags. It wasn’t closed properly and there was a bits of powder on Tony’s hand. “That’s all there is,” the lie was easy to sell, even if it was so terribly wrong. He pushed his hand towards the Captain.

 

Steve frowned at him, eyes searching his face for something. If Tony tried his best, maybe the other man would brush this off and speak nothing of it to anyone. When he took the bag from Tony’s hand and brushed off the residue, he nodded slightly. “If you can tell me you won’t touch this again, I will let this go. If I find out you’re doing this again, I will go straight to Rhodey. And Pepper.” His voice was stern and the mechanic knew he wasn’t fucking around. 

 

“You don’t look okay, Tony. We’re here if you need us.” 

 


	4. I Think I'm Hitting a Wall

“You fucking traitor,” Tony mumbles to the top of the elevator after the Captain with the small bag in firmly in his hand.

 

“I asked her to tell me when you were returning to the tower. Did you really think it was smart to leave without telling us? All Friday would say is that’s your not on the premises.” Steve was speaking quietly, his disappointment in the billionaire’s actions all that Tony could hear. 

 

“Got it, I’ll let you guys know next time I plan to leave. I needed some time away and the last couple of parties pushed me too far, it’s fine, Steve.” His voice was rough and his high was in full force, leaving him a little unsteady on his feet. 

 

“Tony. We’ve been worried. We wanted to know if you were okay, it’s obvious that the last few months have been hard on you. We’re a  _ team, _ we care about you.” Tony looked at Steve then, noticed that concern so clearly etched onto his face. His blue eyes were studying the man in front of him, taking in his crumpled, dirty clothes (which aren’t the same clothes he left the tower in - he might be a mess, but he isn’t  _ that  _ bad) and the dark rings under his eyes. It’s been days since he shaved, which is evident by the stubble along his face and Tony knew he looked bad, pupils blown wide and hair a mess. 

 

Rogers watches him roll his eyes, the billionaire crossing his arms over his chest. “Cap, sorry to burst your bubble, but I haven’t been apart of that team in months.  _ Months.  _ It’s not like it matters, I shouldn’t have been included in the first place.  _ Don’t play well with others,  _ remember? I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me. I’m Tony fucking Stark. My life involves parties and spending money as fast as I make it, alright, Capsicle?” Tony put on the best shit eating grin he could in his current state.

 

“You deserve a spot on this team. It’s your team, Tony. But not this side of you. You need to get better before you can go out there on that field, you know that.” Steve looked like a hurt puppy, frowning at the man in front of him. “This,” he holds up the small bag, “isn’t the answer to your problems either.”

 

Fuck, Capsicle isn’t aware of how fucked up he is because of his father. Fury and Rhodey know all of it, every nitty gritty detail. The rest of the team has really been left in the dark about the extent on his mental state since teenage hood. There’s information withheld from the SHIELD files, thanks to his Aunt Peggy mainly, as well as Nick. Tony can’t help but feel as though he will always be like this, he will always retreat to his self destructive ways. It’s a cycle that he can’t break. He isn’t strong enough to. 

 

The mechanic was quiet for a long time while he considered what Rogers said. He didn’t know how to explain to the Captain that he was relying alcohol by the age of sixteen, he has tried to end his life a few times now and he’s haunted by the amount of bloodshed he’s caused. He’s nothing compared to the great Captain America who was  _ frozen alive  _ and lost the love of his life because he saved the world. He doesn’t want to vocalize his petty issues when he’s still a billionaire, still healthy somehow and he has everything money could buy. The man in front of him couldn’t possibly understand. 

 

“Captain, this side of me is who I really am. Who I’ve always been. I’m sorry you didn’t know. Keep this a secret for me, please.” the paranoia of Rhodey finding out was intense and made him want to crawl into bed with the doors lock right  _ now. _

 

There was a look of pain on Steve’s face as he looked at Tony. “I am sorry you believe that. I’ve seen another side of you. This isn’t everything you are. I’ll stand by what I said. Friday will notify me of anymore instances.” Rogers looked at the ceiling when he mentioned the AI and Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes. He nodded in agreement instead, making Rogers give him a small smile.

 

When the elevator doors finally shut, Tony slid down onto the floor and tried to focus on levelling out his breathing, to clear his head and slip back into the blissful nothingness he was feeling shortly before the elevator stopped.  Why did Rogers have to fuck up his night? He didn’t need the stress of worrying about Steve knowing what he’s up to. No matter what the Captain said, Iron Man wasn’t needed in the Avengers anymore. 

 

After Ultron, it had become insanely hard for Tony to work on the suit let alone hop in it. He would sit in his workshop, staring at the damaged armour until his eyes hurt and he couldn’t bear to be down in the lab any longer. Thinking about the being in the armour made his skin crawl and the worst part was that he wasn’t sure  _ why  _ it made him so messed up, it just  _ did.  _ It all felt so wrong after everything, after he saw all of the innocents dead bodies. Maybe that’s when Tony realized he didn’t, no, couldn’t be apart of the team. Couldn’t be the reason why so many people died yet again, no, he could not live with himself if he causes another attempted on the safety of his planet. It filled his whole body with dread, and so that’s how Tony spent the rest of the ride up to the penthouse. On the floor of the elevator, hunched over and shaking, thinking about dead teammates and lifeless eyes. The blood all over his hands and it’s his fault, his fault, hisfaulthisfaulthisfault -  _ his fucking fault.  _

 

-

 

It takes Tony almost an hour to calm down enough to stand up and stumble out of the elevator, leaning most of his weight into the wall of the hallway. Friday is trying to talk to him, asking him if he needs help and should she get a Dum-E or Butterfingers to come to him and he doesn’t want to deal with her after letting him get caught half way through a line. The nerve. The utter nerve of her. So, he ignores her and her attempts to send someone to help him stumble to the kitchen.

 

There was a bottle of scotch on the large counter in his kitchen. He opened the bottle and drank it straight for a second. He was still feeling the cocaine coursing through his system, although it wasn’t enough anymore. There was a desire to make himself black out so he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment all over Roger’s face.

 

He realizes that he’s putting his body through hell ( _ again)  _ so he can cope with each day, unable to get through it if he’s sober. Maybe he should be worried, he should call Rhodey and ask for help to get back on the right track but he isn’t sure he can, he has no clue if he can face the messes he’s made and try to overcome the things he’s seen. They’re burned into his memory now, the idea of trying to work through the damage all of the trauma he’s been through seems so.. Pointless. It was all of his fault. Doesn’t he deserve this? 

 

That’s all his thinking about when he pulls out the small plastic baggies from his t-shirt pocket, watching the white powder fall onto the counter of the kitchen. All he can hear is Steve’s words ringing in his head, telling him he wouldn’t tell anyone _ ,  _ and that  _ this isn’t the answer _ , although it sure did look like the answer right now. “Friday, if you tell him I swear to fucking god I will replace you instantly,” he stops himself from irrationally yelling at the ceiling. He isn’t Steve’s pity case. This is the real world, where sometimes people can’t be fixed.

 

When he snorts the second white line of the night, that’s what he’s telling himself.  _ I can’t be fixed. No, I’m fucked up beyond repair, Steve. _

 


	5. I Know You're Feeling Numb

Eventually, the tabloids began to spin stories about him, published with dark and grainy images of himself in different bars.  _ Tony Stark, back to his wild ways? Iron Man looking worse for wear in a New York bar! Again!  _ He couldn’t help but read a couple, pushing the feelings of shame and embarrassment to the back of his mind. Usually, he doesn’t pay attention to any of the papers. It always stings a bit, sometimes it fucking hurts when they write articles that hit a little too close to home, but he knows he’s reading the article as a distraction. 

 

Distraction from what, exactly? Well, that would be Tony Stark’s resignation letter. It’s the right thing to do, he knows it, the team probably does too. After what he did, it’s justified. He put not only the team, but the world in danger and his guilt can’t let him continue to be apart of a team specifically designed to save the world, not the opposite. Pepper would say he’s being overdramatic, that he was there trying to save the world and right his mistakes, but she’s too used to making excuses for him. Tony knows this is the right choice to make, he can feel it. It’s not like he can continue to be Iron Man anymore, he can hardly get into the suit without having a panic attack. 

 

Pepper’s always wanted him to give up Iron Man. Didn’t like having a third person in the relationship. It’s about time he let it go for good, the team has War Machine.Or Iron Patriot. Whatever you want to call him. Tony has spent all night thinking about this decision and he hardly hesitates as he tells Friday to send off the email to Fury, downing his drink as he sits in front of his damaged Iron Man suit. It’s still left nearly untouched since Sokovia, every time he tried his hands locked up and all he could remember was watching Ultron stumble out of the darkness, sinister voice promising the end of it all. 

 

“Incoming call from Director Fury, boss.”  Friday’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he clears his throat before nodding, glad the room was dark and quiet, even though Friday said it was a beautiful day outside. 

 

“Stark, I’ve had enough of your antics. You can’t pull Iron Man from the team.” Fury’s voice cold, and Tony knew he was livid. Thank god this wasn’t a video call. 

 

“Yes, I can. The team can use Iron Patriot, I can retire early and we’re all happy.” He tried to keep his voice light and playful, the usual cocky demeanor of Tony Stark seeping into his tone.

 

“This is bullshit, Stark. Quit this fucking nonsense and pull your head out of-”

 

“I think you’re breaking up, Nicholas. I’ll talk to you later, perhaps!” Tony cut off the older man, Friday ending the call and leaving the now former Avenger in silence. He thought about calling Rhodey. Thought about asking his best friend to help clean up his mess again. He knows Rhodes would be there beside him as soon as he could be. 

 

_ He doesn’t care about you anymore, though.  _ He can’t help the thoughts that come flooding in. _ He’d only be helping you out of pity. Why would he stick around and want to help you? As if you can’t see he’s only doing it because there’s no one else here to do it, is there? Who cares if you drink yourself to death? Poor old Tony Stark is alone, once again. How does it feel to be the world's most successful man but there’s nothing to show except what your money could buy you?  No great legacy to leave all of this to. What a waste of a man.  _

 

He know it was all in his head. Kinda. There was that one small dark part of him that believed it, that let the lies wrap around him until he no longer questions them. It’s rare for Tony to look at someone and see genuine care for him. Jarvis always did, and his mother. It took him longer than he cared to admit to see it in Pepper, he struggles to find it in her face now. After everything. There’s been times where Tony is too fucked up to see it on Rhodey, and in those moments he convinces himself that it was never there to begin with.

 

So, he stopped himself from calling Rhodey and instead poured himself another drink. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his texts to find a number he texted a few days ago for his last hit. There was going to be a party in his penthouse. Why not? It was his tower. Friday has been stripped of her privileges in his penthouse since the elevator incident. Steve, or anyone, hasn’t tried to get in touch with him, so Tony takes that as a sign of the Captain’s silence. Thank god.

 

-

 

It was midnight now, the penthouse dimly lit and the music still a little bit too loud. Tony was sitting on his couch, a tall brunette women straddling his hips. She was hardly dressed, only wearing a lacy bralette and a small skirt that didn’t cover her ass very well at all. The penthouse was littered with bottles of beer and hard liquor, the tables covered in pizza boxes and drug pharenalia. Tony had taken ecstasy for the first time since MIT and smoked one too many joints. All he could feel was hands running down his chest, over his crotch and back up again. It sent shivers down his spine and he moaned at her touch. 

 

He was messed up. Again. “I want to take you to my workshop and fuck you on one of the benches,” he slurred, hands loose on her hips. 

 

“Let’s go then, Mister Stark,” the woman said cheerily, laughing at the nickname she used. She stood unsteadily and tried to help pull Tony up, nearly sending herself to the floor. Once they were both fully upright Tony led the way to the elevator. 

Tony pushed the woman up against the elevator doors when they shut, mouth searching for hers as his body ached for the physical contact. He was pushing her bralette out of the way, mouth travelling down her neck as his fingers sought out her nipples. The woman, name long forgotten but we’ll call her Emily, was moaning. Her hands were stretched out, trying to find something to steady herself while Tony made his way down her body. 

 

Neither of them noticed the doors opening, signalling their arrival at his beloved workshop. They almost fell straight to the floor if it was for Tony’s quick thinking, his arms wrapping around her waist. With how unsteady they body are, they should be on the floor. He takes the younger woman’s hand, pulling her out of the elevator and towards the workshop. It’s dark down here, the door open and waiting for them. As they walk through the workshop lights up, untouched from when he was down here earlier. Emily walks over to the nearest bench top and pushed everything off, all of his papers and tools falling to the ground. 

 

“You naughty girl,” he laughs, watch Emily sit herself up on the table, legs spread slightly. 

 

She smiles at him, full of sadness and understanding. Two people escaping it all through the worse ways possible. “Come get me, Mr. Billionaire.” Her voice is soft, her pupils blown wide as she stares into his eyes. That’s all it takes. Tony moves towards her, unwilling to let himself think about his unhealthy coping strategies.

 

Tony is halfway through taking Emily’s, or whoever she is, panties off when the Avengers alarm goes off throughout the building. Suddenly the room is lit up and Tony groans, eyes squinting shut painfully. “What the fuck is going on, Friday?” He yells over the alarm. 

 

“Boss, the Avengers have been called to an urgent situation. Colonel Rhodes would like you to come to the launch pad.” the alarm was silenced and replaced with Friday's voice, although Tony’s ears were still ringing. Emily had her hands pushed against her ears beneath him. 

 

“Shit, fuck, okay.” Tony muttered, eyes running over Emily’s body. He can’t ignore him, which means he’ll have to face him in this state. There’s eyedrops somewhere in the workshop, he has a few bottles stashed around now. He will hope and pray that will help him. 


	6. I Wanna Tear You Apart

Tony felt bad for Emily in this moment. She didn’t know what exactly was happening and she look completely terrified. He had Friday put the penthouse on lockdown so the rest of his company couldn’t come down and survey what was happening, not that he thinks they would. They’re all too drugged up to care, probably. “Now, I’m going to get out in a second and you’re going to stay here and tell everyone up there to remain calm. I’ll be up there soon.” he kept his voice calm and soft, not wanting to frighten Emily any longer. 

 

“Alright. Okay. Cool. I'm sorry your night turned out like this. I’ll see you up there shortly.” The elevator was slowing and he hoped the eye drops he quickly applied before leaving the workshop have done _something_ to stop him from looking as high as he feels. Drunk, he can handle. Everyone knows Tony Stark is drinking just a smidge more than usual these days. “Don’t worry if anyone sees you. They won’t say anything to anyone.” she nods at this, putting her trust into him without knowing him past his unhealthy desires.

 

It’s busy when the elevator doors open. His former teammates are rushing around each other to get ready, a few of them stopping to look in his direction. Everyone is well dressed and extremely presentable, even if it is late at night. They’re going out for a mission. They’re alert and tense. Tony, on the other hand, is disheveled and unkempt. He knows it and tries to own it so it doesn’t look so bad. Thankfully he didn’t forget to do up his jeans during the elevator ride, although his shirt is wrinkled and he isn’t wearing any shoes.

 

“Tony, there you are. God, you fucking reek,” Rhodey scolds him in front of the rest of the team, most of which are looking past him and into the scantily clad woman in the elevator. “How much have you had to drink?” his tone was harsh and low, letting the younger man know he wasn’t happy.

 

“Possibly a smidge too much. Maybe. Who knows. It’s fine, I’m here!” his voice is louder than he wanted it to be and it feels like forever until the elevator doors are shut. “I was out at a club and there was free shots. I got carried away, I’m sorry, Papa Bear.” laughing, he turns to face the rest of the team who have fully stopped to concentrate on the mess that is Tony Stark in front of them. “What are you guys looking at?”

 

“Jesus, Tony.” It was then that Rhodes grabbed his hand, yanking him all the way out onto the balcony, away from prying eyes and ears. “What the fuck is going on with you, Tony? You don’t answer the phone, don’t return our emails. We’re your fucking family!” Rhodey is yelling now, frustration and anger pouring through in the tense situation.

 

Maybe it was the drugs, or the illogical thinking he has forced himself to believe these days but anger flares up in him at his friends outburst. The wind is loud and cold as it blows on the balcony yet Tony feels hot all over his body. “What’s wrong with me? Fuck you, Rhodey! We aren’t a family, this team can’t have me on it and you should know that!” He’s yelling back at his friend, the words coming out of his mouth before he can stop them. “I created a monster and we almost lost everything because of me, everything! How can you forget and forgive that? I’m just like him, Rhodey. I am everything I never wanted to be just fucking face it!”

 

His arms are wrapped around himself, partly to stop his hands from shaking and party to feel some sense of security. Anger has filled him and he’s spiralling. It’s impossible not to feel the eyes of his _“family”_ on him as he stands out here, staring off in the distance instead of facing his friend of too many years to count. There’s tears that are burning in his eyes and he refuses to shed them here and now.

 

“Wow, Tony. You know we will have to deal with this when I get back, don’t you?” It’s hard to hear Rhodey over the wind now he’s stopped yelling. When Tony looks at him, he sees tears in his friends eyes as well. There’s pain on his face and it makes the billionaires skin crawl knowing he put it there. He’s always put pain on that face.

 

“When will that be?” his anger is somewhat deflated by the emotions he’s seeing and feeling, he also wonders what his former team is going to walk in to. If they will all walk out of it alive. There’s always the risk.

 

“In four to six days. We’re all going. It isn’t overly dangerous, the more that go the easier it is though.” Rhodey locks eyes with him then, his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I will be talking to the team about this. I will be coming back to help you. No more of this playboy lifestyle, cut the shit, Tones.” his scolding is gentle and Tony tries to give him a smile, or some sort of reaction that doesn’t show how terrified he is.

 

Steve will come clean when Rhodey starts talking, he knows that. It’s churning his stomach. When the man across from him learns his indiscretions, he will have to face what he’s done and that’s the last thing he wants. His friend holds open the door for him and they go inside, Tony visibly shaken by the last of Rhode’s words to him. It’s easy for him to find Steve’s face amongst the sea of eyes staring at him.

 

He looks away from the man quickly, eyes choosing to stick to the floor. “Uh, good luck everyone. Safe travels and all that jazz,” the usually confident billionaire says, tone dejected from what he’s saying. He knows the elevator doors are open for him and he starts walking before anyone has a chance to open their mouth. It’s silent as he leaves and he suspects his older friend is shaking his head at attempts to stop him. They have a mission that’s more important than a lost middle aged man.

 

The penthouse was in chaos when he got up there, the doors opening to meet him with turmoil and yelling. Tony’s head was pounding, throat aching and nose sore from the last few days. Lauren was in the centre of the room, bending down at the coffee table in order to snort two thin lines off the table. The other women were yelling about what’s going on, with his dealer and two other guys standing to the side watching.

 

“Tony’s back! Mr. Stark, what is going on!” the girls rushed over to him, eyes wide with panic and alarm. They were dressed just as scantily as their friend Emily, although they both had jet black hair that went way down past their backs in wavy locks.

He wanted everyone out, his eyes wanted to fall out of his head and these women needed to get out of his space right _now._ “Everything is fine, the party needs to be cut short sadly. Leave what’s on the table, I’ll pay for it and go. The elevator will escort you out.” He left no room for argument and they nodded, turning to search for pieces of clothing littered throughout the room.

 

Emily watched him walk over to the coffee table she was still stuck at. “You can stay, if you wanted,” he spoke low to her, reaching past her to a wad of cash on the table. Without looking he held it out to his dealer, a younger man who is easily bought when it comes to secrecy. The money was taken from him and all but one piled into the elevator. Tony was still looking down at the younger woman. “Move over.”

 

She does, giving him a good spot alongside her. There’s a few bags of cocaine left on the table, as well as some pot. There was going to be many conversations about him on the quinjet to their latest mission and he doesn’t want to feel the shame and anxiety that brings. Emily was whispering in his ear, urging him to do a line and then show her why he has such a great reputation in bed now they won't be interrupted. He wonders if she could sense how tense he was or if she wanted to push him further off the deep end on purpose.


	7. You Keep a Lot of Secrets

When he woke up, he was in his bed. Somehow. Emily was next to him, her breathing breaking up the usual silence of his room. There isn’t a lot of memory after the exchange on the balcony, and even that is a bit grainy. His back is thankful he chose a bed to sleep on and not the floor or the couch, which is where he expected to be right now. For a while, he let himself lay there and listen to the other women in his bed. It wasn’t the same as Pepper, of course not, but it was comforting. To not be alone. The tower is virtually empty until the team gets back. Emily will be gone soon and he'll be left with cleaning yet another mess of his own making.

 

Getting out of bed seems like such a task, it must be done though, he knows. There’s an unpleasant feeling brewing in his stomach and he feels like he’s on his way to throwing up. It isn’t a surprise his body hates him after the last twenty-four hours. He’s undone all of his hard work when he sobered up the first time. The women next to him stirs when he sits up, his head was about to crack open and now he’s upright the nausea has kicked in full throttle.

 

It’s a quick two steps into the bathroom from the edge of his bed and he wished he hadn’t moved so fast but then he’s bent over the toilet, all contents of last nights excessive amount of _everything_ coming back out of him. It’s brutal and painful, and there’s someone in the doorway, asking if he’s okay. When it’s over and he can lean back from the toilet without dry heaving, he nods and gives a lousy thumbs up. He doesn’t want to talk.

 

For a few minutes, he’s alone in his bathroom. The tile next to the poor toilet he’s just thrown up in is cold against his clammy skin. When she comes back to the bathroom, Emily is holding a glass. “I was going to make you a bloody mary, but I couldn’t be fucked. This will get rid of the gross taste in your mouth anyway,” she smiles as she holds out the drink and he takes it from her. He could pour out the alcohol and get some water from the tap, he thinks as he brings the glass to his lips. Whiskey tastes better than water, he rationalizes. It’s fine.

 

They shower together, the water slightly too hot for both of them but it’s nice to be covered in all of the steam. Tony doesn’t think he’s let anyone stay this long after a night together. It’s past midday, for some reason he’s taking his time. Letting this drag out, maybe so he doesn’t have to be alone with his dangerous thoughts that are pushing him further into this lifestyle. Or maybe he’s actually enjoying the presence of someone else for a change. There’s no judgement between them, they’re both in the same dark place.

 

Relying on other people and illicit substances to feel numb and level. They both know nothing will come from tonight, there’s no romantic feelings on his end and probably not hers either. There’s simply a sense of need, a need that demands to be fulfilled and Tony is at a point where he has nothing else to do except fulfill it. It’s selfish and damaging, yet it feels so good.

 

Tony quickly loses concentration on his thoughts when Emily pushes him against the shower wall, sliding down on her knees in front of him. She is a very gorgeous women. Tony would guess she’s in her late twenties, her long chestnut hair was messy when wet, stuck to her face and just about everywhere else. Her big eyes were a vibrant green. Now that she wasn’t under the influence, mainly, he could see the colour of her eyes much easier. She was paler than him by far, but her skin looked smooth. Soft. Warm. His mouth fell open in pleasure as he felt her tongue run down his length and he let his thoughts drift off and focused on the moment, for a change.

 

-

 

“You can take whatever is left on the table, if you want,” he says casually while he waits for the coffee machine to deliver the necessary caffeine he needs. “I probably shouldn’t have it. Try to clean up my act and whatever.” he snorts, mainly to himself.

 

He can hear her in the background, the quiet tapping of whatever she’s using to cut out a line, probably two. “You’re going to give this away when all of your friends are out? Alright, dude. That’s on you. I won’t say no.” she says before he hears the drawn out _snifffff-_ that tells him she probably won’t want a coffee, then. “At least do one last line with me. It’s here for you.”

 

That’s when he finally turns to look at her. She’s in jeans and an old top of his, just a band one, and she’s on her knees at the coffee table. There’s two more white lines there on the glass top, staring at him. Emily has a small smile on her lips, her face giving away no sign that she’s just taken the substance in front of her. Further down, however, there’s a few marks along her neck. Hickies and bruises from the last night together which only started to show up after their shower earlier. “I think you owe it to me after calling me Pepper for half the night.” her tone is playful, pointing at him with the rolled up dollar bill she used prior, shaming him further although Tony knows he’s already looking embarrassed as fuck.

 

“I did not call you Pepper out loud, did I?” she nods, smile growing. He tries to think about to when he could have let that slip, though there’s very little clear memory of the last few nights. There is a history of forgetting the names of his one night stands, although he hasn't called anyone Pepper before. He must have been in a very fucking bad state, he feels guilty. Pepper hasn't crossed his mind in a while. “I’m so sorry I forgot your name.” he offers sincerely, grabbing his hot coffee before walking over to Emily.

 

He sits next to her, his leg touching her knees. “It’s alright. Used to it.” her tone is kept light, a small shrug of her shoulders to shake off the sting of her own words shows how she really feels. “Do you wanna do these or do you want me to? I am heading out to a party tonight, I’ll have to go soon.” she tilting her head towards the table while she looks at him.

 

With those eyes staring at him, he pushes all rational thoughts to the back of his head again and takes the dollar bill from her hands. It’s easier to clear his conscious and partake with the knowledge his team are travelling far away, he hasn’t been told where they are exactly. Fury is being hard on him and restricting the information that can be filtered down to him now since he has resigned. It’s a petty move on the director’s part. The first line goes down easily, his body aching at how hunched over he is to reach the coffee table. Tony knows it isn’t a good look.

 

Dusk is settling over the cityscape and it casts an orange hue over the room, causing Tony to stop and admire the view once the table was free of any substances. His nose burned and his eyes watered because of it. When he wiped his hand across his nose, there was blood. “Fuck,” he muttered.

 

“I was about to invite you to the party, but maybe it’s bedtime for the old man.” Emily joked, a soft laugh coming from her while she stood up. Two small baggies went into her jeans pocket and she eyed the few joints scattered around the table. “Keep the pot. Puts me to sleep too quickly.” she bent down to kiss him then. There was blood on his mouth but she didn’t care, it was messy and hot and totally caught Tony off guard. When she pulled away there was blood on her mouth, as well as her chin. Oops. They were both breathing heavy and the women looked at him sadly. “Thanks for the fun,” she whispers in his ear before standing up. “I’ll wash my face and leave. See you around, maybe.” there’s no looking back when she leaves the room.

  
  



	8. I Don't Want to Love Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody saw me posting the same chapter twice..
> 
> (sorry)
> 
> (thanks to those that let me know.)

It was halfway through the third day. He was bored. All he knew was the little pieces Friday would tell him. Everyone is alive, in good condition and the mission was ongoing. He knew it was something to do with HYDRA, which he thought was destroyed for good. There was going to be hell for him when they all got back. Steve would tell Rhodey about the elevator incident. It’s all he can think about the last few hours. The need to do the right thing would make Rogers crumble and spit it out and he’s so anxious waiting for his close friend to come back and see how he’s fallen back into this pattern _again._ He’s a broken record.  

 

There are pizza boxes and alcohol from the party the other night still littered around. Empty cups that have collected from the last few days across the benches. He hasn’t let anyone up on this floor in so long and he’s struggled to look after his own appearance lately, he sure isn’t doing the fucking dishes anytime soon. “Friday, get the cleaners up here. Warn them to go full hazmat basically and pay them double, I’m going out for a walk.” ignoring the protest in his knees, he stands quickly from the couch and skulls the remainder of his drink before dumping it on the coffee table.

 

Hurrying, he picks up the obvious drug-related items that are left around his living area. He won’t scare his cleaners _that_ badly this time. They’ll probably know what he got up to in here anyway with the way it smells in here. He wonders briefly if this is what Snoop Dogg’s house smells like all the time.

 

Perhaps he could use a shower to deep clean himself before he leaves the tower. His stomach rumbles and he isn’t quite sure when he last ate something but he figures there will be time for a light snack when he’s out, surely. Going out for a walk in the park will clear his head, he _isn’t_ going out for booze _or_ illegal substances. Totally just for a walk and some food. He doesn’t want to be cooped up in here and there’s no point sitting around waiting for news of their return.

 

It had been easier to stop taking the cocaine when he could replace it with other things, but now the alcohol isn’t easing the itch in his nose and the weed is all gone. He rubs it unconsciously from time to time, trying to fight off the sensation. He knows he’s crossed a line with his substance use. Everyone will fucking know it soon and he’s terrified, terrified at how his team will react when they see him now. Steve will be so angry with him for lying to his face. He worries there will be the talk of _rehab_ and he won’t be fucking sent away again, even if he has spiraled further into this breakdown and now back into the open arms of addiction again. They’ve tried rehabs in the past. Inpatient programs that are impossible to take seriously, especially when there’s usually drugs snuck into the programs from outsiders.

 

There was so much disappointment across Rhodey and his mothers face when he went to rehab the second time. He had only come out of it eight months prior, although he blames the people he chose to surround himself with. He always did back then. It’s easy to let others push you into these sinful habits when the desire and curiosity were always there, to begin with. His lack of self-control didn’t help the situation to begin with. It’s taken him years to realize he’ll always slip into these behaviours because he _wants_ to because he has such a bad inability to say no to himself.

 

By the fourth time he went in, his mother was dead and it was only Rhodey standing there across from him saying his goodbyes. There was no disappointment, no anger. There was a deep sadness when he looked at Tony, however. Sadness because he’s here again or sadness because his friend doesn’t think it’ll be the last time he isn’t quite sure. He remembered telling his friend how sorry he was and promising that this was going to be the last time _for good_ this time, really.

 

There’s no chance in him getting through the day without _something_ in this system or his hand will shake and sweat will start drip down his forehead. He doesn’t think about it anymore as he leaves the tower finally, the air has a very slight brisk which helps to make him feel more alert. He tries to focus on getting to the park. _One step at a time_ he thinks as he rubs at his nose again. That’s all he can manage right now.

 

Central Park is quiet for the time of day. He’s lowkey thankful for how empty it is, it allows him to take his time and enjoy the people watching. Looking at the families and loved up couples stroll hand in hand together he imagines how much more simple their lives are compared to his. He has always loved the thought of settling down and having a steady, stable family but there’s clearly no room for it in his life. There’s the question about if he is capable of being a good father as well. His stomach is grumbling again and he groans, deciding to call the nearest pizza place and order it now.

 

Pulling out his phone, he’s trying to think of the name of the goddamn place he usually goes to when he sees there are two text messages waiting for him. He tenses his grip on the phone, Rhodey popping into his head instantly. _It’s fine, It’ll be nothing,_ he’s repeating to himself as he clicks on the little envelope on the screen. It wasn’t Rhodey, although it wasn’t nothing either.

 

The number was unknown although the message within cleared that up.

 

 _Hey, its Emily. R ur friends still out of town?_   
  


Read the first message, Tony loosening his tight grip on his phone and forcing himself to take a deep breath.

 

_Going 2 a party tonite, come with me. Will give ur shirt back maybe_

 

He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him when he read the next message. Weighing his options now, he knew he was hungry and had to eat but there was another hunger that was there too. Both needed to be fed. He was moving his fingers fast along the surface of his phone to type his response.

 

_Txt the address. I’ll bring pizza._

_TS_

 

-

 

The address ended up being a very respectable looking townhouse on a quiet street not too far away from the park he was just at. The sky was quickly starting to darken already and his food was going to go cold soon if he didn’t get his ass inside. As the cab drove away behind him, he crossed the footpath and walked up to the few steps to the door. He had to maneuver his hold on the boxes in his arms before he could knock on the solid wooden door in front of him. There was no hope in getting his phone out to text his arrival to his _friend_ or whatever.

 

He was contemplating sending that text because he was freezing his ass off now, but then the door was opening and he was being pulled inside. “You weren’t lying when you said you were bringing pizza,” Emily greeted him, giving him an overly warm smile. Her eyes were wide, a slither of green around the dark circles in the center of her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again at all after I’d left the other day.” she was taking the pizza boxes out of his arms and walking further into the house. He’d bought a few more boxes than needed, he thought it would be rude to show up with only enough for himself.

 

“I didn’t plan on it if I’m honest. Your text came at the right time. I couldn’t resist.” the words are the truth, he couldn’t resist it. It was getting harder to talk himself out of these bad decisions. He was following her through the house, hunger was forgotten about since he had half of a pizza quickly shoved in his mouth during the cab ride. He was looking for something else, now. “You look like you’re having a good time. I want to have one too.” his hand was stretched out to touch her hip when he spoke, words low enough for her only.

 

“Lucky you, I think I can take care of that for you,” she says when she looks back at him. “This is the kitchen, mainly for our food and drinks obviously. The real fun is upstairs. Follow me,” her voice sounds excited, hints at the promise of the answer to his bodies desires. He’s hot on her tail after she puts the pizzas down on the bench, beelining straight to the staircase. It isn’t an overly tall ascent to the next floor and he can already smell what’s happening up there as they walk towards it. “Pace yourself, old man.”


	9. Dreaming of You

 

Of course, it happens during the worst time. He’s hunched over the beside table, head low to the table so he can get all of the white powder in one hit. There’s a loud pounding coming from somewhere behind him but he’s too focused on the task at hand, there are two more lines to go and he _isn’t_ a quitter. The air in the room is cold on his skin and he really needs to find his shirt. His head hurts in protest of the loud banging and he’s just about to get up and yell to _shut the fuck up_ when the banging stops and so does Tony when he hears _that_ voice. He feels his stomach fall out of his ass, basically.

 

From another room, he hears what sounds like a very furious Colonel Rhodes. “ _Where is he? You know who I'm talking about. God, just MOVE!”_ he’s slightly muffled with a few thin walls between them. He’s looking around the room for an escape as his adrenaline kicks in but the yelling is getting louder and _closer_ and  there’s _no_ way out now and _fuck_ there’s still a line on the table. If he has to go down, he might as well get rid of the evidence. In the brief seconds before Rhodey bursts through the door, he finishes the cocaine, nose stinging as he rubs at it crazily.

 

Then he’s there, the bedroom door was thrown wide open to reveal Rhodey in all in angry glory. Disappointment and anger radiate off of him in the small room and it’s already starting to unnerve Tony, prompting him to wrap his arms around his bare chest. There’s a man standing behind the Colonel that Tony is pretty damn sure he snorted a line off of at some point of his stay here, though that is very irrelevant now. He’s surprised he hasn’t fallen on the fucking floor in shock. It’s hard for Tony to take keep his breathing even, trying to process the rush from the drugs he’s inhaled and the shock that has thrown him into this mini-meltdown.

 

“Let’s go.” is all Tony gets, Rhodey making it clear there’s no room for discussion and all he can do is obey, walking past his friend and out of the bedroom with his tail between his legs. Keeping his eyes glued to the floor he makes his way through the house. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s out the front door and he doesn’t dare to look behind him. He feels like he'd turn to stone.

 

There’s a bulky black car out on the street and he has a feeling that is his ride. Rhodey is moving past him to open the car door for him, unnecessarily polite to him even in this situation, his eyes stuck on Tony as he watches the man climb into the back seat unsteadily. His friend noticed how his spine stood out more than it did before. He was incredibly thankful that the car was empty. It’s only now he was dying for a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes from Rhodey. He knows he looks terrible, bruises and few cuts litter his torso. He feels so exposed.

 

Sniffing loudly, he makes an attempt to relax in the car. There’s nothing he can do now. He has made his bed, he’s gotta lie in it too. Part of him is glad he’s still incredibly wasted. It’d be much harder sober. Resting his head against the seat, he can’t really feel relaxed at all. His hand fidgets on his knee, tapping rather fast to try and ease the tension he’s feeling. Neither of them has spoken since they got in and now the is car leaving and all Tony can do is wait for his friend to break the ice. He didn’t plan on saying anything for a change.

 

“Why is it that when I come back from a mission, you aren’t there and Friday is very hard-pressed to reveal where you are? Tell me what is happening with you lately. Where the fuck is your shirt?” Rhodey turned to face him, almost making him jump. There were anger and sadness seeping through his words. “How high are you right now?”

 

What answer does he give Rhodey? He isn’t going to like the truth, so that’s what he gives him. It’s cruel of him. “Very.. I have it under control, though. I don’t know about the shirt, either. Lost it a while ago.”  He doesn’t mean to come off as defensive as he sounds. They both know he’s lying. Control left a long time ago.

 

Tony’s not really sure what he should say next. This is one of his lowest moments in a while, there’s no point in denying it now he’s been caught in the act, once again. It’s so hard to try and be honest in this situation. “I feel like the floors have been taken out from underneath me, Rhodes. It’s like... Like I’m falling through the air, as fast as I possibly could and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. So, I drink a lot and I do anything else I want to. And yeah, maybe I’ve had a few too many bumps over the last couple of weeks, but it’s all I can do to feel like I’m back on solid ground. Without it, I’m lost. I don’t feel okay. I can’t find my footing, can’t pull myself out of this.” His voice is weak and hoarse, and Tony doesn’t want to keep talking, he wants to disappear. The next words come out without his permission. “I’m not sure I can stop doing this anymore.”

 

Leaving the townhouse was more painful than he expected. There’s a high chance there’s something else tucked away somewhere on him, though that will be taken off of him before there’s any way he can get it in his system. Sometimes it’s all he can think of. _When is the next hit_ ? _Just a little more to feel clearer._ He’ll feel the harsh loss of it soon when the hours stretch on with nothing for him to take the edge off within his reach.

 

“Jesus, Tony. Cocaine?! Are we back at MIT? I’m not sure I want to know what else you’ve done. I can’t believe we’re back here.” his friend trails off, turning his head to look out the window. “I am sorry I didn’t see how bad this was sooner. I will not, however, _will not,”_ he’s staring at Tony to show him how serious he is, “come and drag your ass out of another place like that again. I have made too many excuses for you, you need to do this on your own this time. You have to because I can’t keep doing this, Tones. I really don’t want to do it again and I’m pretty sure this will end up with me finding your dead body and I refuse to do that.” Rhodey sighs, slumping back against the car seat. His words are filled with concern when he speaks next. “You don’t deserve this either, you know. I want the healthy and happy Tony back. He is in there, still. I believe he is.”  he offered a small, sad smile to his friend and Rhodey furrowed his brows together when Tony couldn’t bring himself to smile back, choosing to look out the window and towards his obnoxiously large building he called home that was in the distance.

 

The rest of the car ride was silent and short. Rhodey decided to let Tony sit and ride out the high that was making him feel more anxious than usual. There wasn’t even enough time for Tony to process everything that’s been said before the car is pulling to a stop and his whole body goes still with it. “This is going to be so painful. I don’t want to do this, are they angry at me? What did you tell them? What do they know? Fuck, _fuck.”_ He’s rambling now. He tries to picture what he’s walking into. Will they all be sitting on the couch waiting for him? Or standing next to the elevator with an intervention sign? God. Both of those scenarios makes him want to run and hide.

 

“Relax. We’re going to go for a shower first, then maybe you’ll be in a better state to see everyone. I’m not going to drag you in there stoned and shirtless. I’m not that heartless. Now, get out of the car. Let’s go get cleaned up.” something still didn’t feel right in Tony, he pushed it down and listened to his friend. He was a little wobbly from the car to the elevator. There was no usual greeting from Friday, which felt weird. Maybe she’s still angry at him.

 

The ride from the garage to the penthouse feels so long. Having a shower would be nice now though. He can shave the stubble that’s getting out of control. It’s tempting to leave it there also. When the doors open, all thoughts of facial hair stopped when he almost ran into Pepper Potts.


	10. Don't Try to Wake Me

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be here when you arrived, ideally. I was heading downstairs. I’ve checked all of his hidey holes, Rhodey. It’s clean up here. It’s been hard with no Friday around to help and wow, where’s your shirt, Tony? You’ve lost weight. Where have yo- are you drunk?” Pepper’s words are rushed as she rambles through her nerves and she finally looks him up and down as she asks him, eyes narrowing as she takes in his appearance. “You’re high,” she says, voice giving away no emotion. It broke a small piece of Tony as her face changed with her deduction.

 

“I’m sorry,” he offered, eyes fixed on the dirty boots he was wearing instead of his ex-lover’s face. He will send himself into a stoned freak out if he has to see the disgust and anger that he knows she has for him.

 

She snorts a little and Tony winces, hurt and anger flaring up within him. “You don’t look sorry. You haven’t acted sorry. You’ve acted incredibly selfish and I’ve lost so much sleep because of you.” Pepper sighs then. “I have been so worried about you. You’ve ignored my calls, texts, emails, everything. Friday won’t tell a soul where you are and I’m too busy running your company to look for you!” her arms are across her chest now, anger being made more obvious.

 

“I don’t know if anything I can say will make this any better. I am sorry, though. If I ever wanted to answer, I took another drink or whatever. I thought it was better off that way.” He still thinks it’s better off that way, mostly.

 

“How are you such a genius and then such an idiot at the same time? I want you to get better, Tony. Do what you have to, to get yourself clean and I will be _so_ happy to see you again. I miss  _you_ , the real you. Will I see him again?” her anger makes way for a heavy sadness that settles over her, her blue eyes filling with tears and when Tony looks up at her, they silently spill over. It’s devastating. “Please tell me I will tell me I won’t lose you to this. I tried to find you. I tried to get into the penthouse. You pushed us all so far away.” Pepper looks away, wiping her eyes and avoiding Tony’s. “I have to go, anyway. Just think about what I’ve said.”  she’s moving past him now, into the waiting elevator and Tony isn’t sure what he should be feeling.

 

He leaves Rhodey there, next to the elevator as he lets his feet take him to his bedroom. He needs to stand under the hot water that he shared with Lauren a few days prior and start to process everything, even if thoughts of another woman that isn’t Pepper makes his stomach churn horribly. There are footsteps behind him and he wants to roll his eyes. “I’m just going for a shower, thanks Papa Bear.” he’s sarcastic, trying to put Rhodey at ease with him.

 

“There’s no Friday up here since you removed her privileges. Super childish, by the way. So, I’m coming with you. Have you forgotten I found you with cocaine still on your fucking nose not long ago?” is his friends reply and Tony is annoyed that he has to let this happen. There’s no getting his way out of a 24/7 babysitter for the foreseeable future, he guesses.

Rhodey follows him into the bathroom. “Do you want to search your pockets and give up anything you have or should I?”

 

-

 

Tony was in the shower for what felt like a whole day. It was a nice place to try and get his shit together. He emerged with his skin a nice shade of red and his head aching. Pepper was all he could think about right now, stuck on the way she looked when she cried. Tears he has caused. “Took your time. Feeling better?” Rhodey says from his seat on the toilet lid, eyes briefly lifting from his phone. Tony shrugs, feeling overwhelmed by the last few hours.

 

The mechanic knows how to build a suit of armour but he can’t figure out how to stop wanting to block everything out with substances. It’s in his mind now, as he faces himself in front of the mirror this time, towel tightly wrapped around his waist. Pepper is right, he is so smart but such a dumbass. He is going to make himself look less like a homeless person and more like himself. That includes cleaning up the mess that is his facial hair. He’s on his way to a beard, though he needs to trim it and neaten it. Thankfully, his friend leaves him to it. He watched Rhodey go back to whatever game he’s easily amused by on his phone before starting the process. It’s quick, way quicker than his shower. There’s a rush to it as his reflection unnerves him.

 

It’s clear to him he’s lost weight. Collar bones popping out more, his losing his once muscle toned body as his ribs protrude more prominently also. His skin is pale, eyes sunken in and there are large dark circles under his eyes. All across his torso and legs are bruises or scrapes, some of the splotches dark while others are a more yellowish tone. He wants to leave the mirror and lay down or something. The need for _more_ is starting to trickle in and now he’s under his friends are there are no texts to Lauren or his dealer. The whole tower would be empty of anything he might crave by now. Rhodey and Pepper would have made sure.

 

When he stands back from the mirror, he looks like a very tired, older version of Tony Stark. He doesn’t look like a drug addict, not really. He looks like he has a bad cold. If there was somebody who didn’t know who he was, he wonders if they could tell he’s been abusing drugs, that he will soon face a harsh comedown. Withdrawal from alcohol. His head is already starting to hurt, he is beyond exhausted and he’s heading straight to bed, Rhodey following him out of the bathroom. “What the plan, Tony? How are you feeling?” his friend asks him, watching Tony sit on the edge of the bed.

 

“I need to lay down for a while, please. Sleep. Watch me if you must.” he sounded deflated. There was nothing left in him now, he was feeling the last few months catch up with him. Eventually, Rhodey nodded and he walked over to a small couch across from the bed. “Put on a movie if you want.” before he got a response, Tony was trying to find some underwear to change into. He’s lost enough dignity for one night.

 

-

 

Suddenly he woke, jumping upright in bed in a panic. _It was just a bad dream,_  he was trying to tell himself in his dark room. Everyone was dead. They were all dead and it was all _his_ fault. Pepper, Rhodes, Natasha, Clint and _Steve._ There’s sweat running down his forehead and chest. He feels clammy all over, a sick twist in his stomach makes him groan out loud. Rhodey jumps at the sudden sound, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Tones? What’s wrong?” voice thick with and rough in the large room.

 

The man in question couldn’t answer, instead, he was getting up out of bed and running past Rhodey, the uneasiness in his stomach sending him straight to the toilet where he was hunched over. He was unsure if the vomiting was because of the dream or the loss of alcohol. Probably both. Even as he felt the hands of his friend on his back, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe another bump would take away this feeling. Ease him back into a dreamless sleep.

 

He wants to ask Rhodey for something, for some relief to this before it manages to get any worse, however, that will only end in disaster. For a while he rests his head against the toilet seat, parts of his nightmare flashing in front of his eyes while he tried to process it all. There was nothing left in him to bring back up, thankfully. He can’t remember the last time he ate a meal. Probably the pizza he took to the party. His throat was burning, from being sick as well as the burn for stronger substances.

 

It takes him a while to pull himself off the floor, Rhodey by his side to help him stumble back to his bed. “Everything hurts, Rhodey,” he says quietly, voice rough. “I want it to stop.” he has his head in his hands now, sitting on the edge of the bed. There was a large part of his that wants to lay down and go back to sleep but it felt impossible, not now. He wasn’t sure what to do with this itch that was growing bigger as every moment passed.

 

“I’m sorry, Tones. I know you do. You know I can’t help in the way you want me to, though. I won’t do that.” his older friend says, shaking his head at the underlying message Tony is trying to convey to him.

 

He can’t help the anger that flares up within him over that, he wants to lash out at Rhodey and hurt him simply because he can. “Yeah, Rhodes. I know.” he forces himself to say, deflating in defeat. Somehow he has to regain control over his emotions, he feels like he’s unravelling at the seams and there’s no way to try and join himself back together. “I’ve really fucked myself up.” it comes out quietly, mostly to himself. His hands shook slightly as they’re holding his head. The bad news is, that’s probably the second sign of the lack of alcohol he’s feeling. His moods would probably be the cocaine and other substances.

 

After all, he is a genius. And an addict. He knows and has been through what’s coming up again a few times. There are a few dangers when withdrawing from alcohol more than some drugs. The latter explains his moods, his deteriorating mental state and tiredness. Even though he knows about what is happening to him and why, he still gets lost in those moods, in the depression that follows the beginning of stopping these addictions. It’s hard not to, not when it’s the only thing he can think or feel. There are no more positive thinking and prayers to get him through this, it’s him and he’s alone in this battle, even if Rhodey is by his side. His friend can’t change his mind and his way of thinking for him, it’s up to Tony to push himself through this and leave this lifestyle behind or he’ll succumb easily to the depression, again. That’s what got him here in the first place, really.

 

It’s hard to find the motivation to get off his bed, but he has to put on some clothes and possibly make a coffee. “If I get dressed, can you go make us some coffee?” he asks Rhodey, his voice flat and empty as he walks into his closet and away from his friend.

 

“Sure, I guess.” he can hear quietly behind him as he walks away, his friend's eyes are on his back. Tony decides to let him worry, there’s no point trying to convince Rhodey that he’s fine. He isn’t, he doesn’t feel anything right at all right now.

 


	11. Can't You Find a Way

The coffee burned on the way down. It needed a good shot of whiskey for it to be totally perfect, though he will have to go without, _obviously_. His head was pounding and he still had lingering nausea. Thank god he wasn’t hungry because there’s no plan for food anytime soon. They were sitting at the coffee table in his lounge room of the penthouse. The glass top looked brand new, no evidence at all of the debauchery that happened here a few nights ago. He wasn’t quite sure of the time, or what day it was exactly. The sky outside was starting to get dark.  

 

Emily pops into his head again. She was everything he didn’t need in his life, a link and connection to this terribly dark part of him. The party here was meant to be the last he saw of her, she was just meant to be another girl from another fucked up party he messed around with. He thinks of her as a sinful Pepper, an alternate version of Pepper that gave into the dark temptations around her, as if his ex-lover followed Tony’s path into self-destruction. Does that explain why he’s drawn to her? She has Pepper’s personality, though darker. He feels comfortable with her, for some unknown reason.

 

Maybe it’s because she makes giving into his harmful desires so easy. There’s a thing she does when she looks at him after she’s taken a bump. It’s sexy and dangerous and that’s when he usually follows her lead and they end up alone and naked shortly after. It was something they both needed at the time, something Tony still feels he needs. He isn’t saying he needs Emily exactly, he needs the lifestyle that comes with her. The way it blocks it all out and numbs him from the anxiety and guilt. It was hard not to feel Rhodey’s eyes on him as he stared into his coffee cup that sat on the table, lost in hazy memories and heavy emotions from recently. “What?” he snapped, annoyance at being pulled from his train of thought.

 

“I was trying to ask you a question. I was asking what you wanted to do about the team. Sorry,” Rhodey looks slightly taken aback by his small outburst and his anger turns to shame for overreacting.

 

“What do you mean, what _I_ want to do about the team? What did you tell them during the mission?” he asks, eyes glued to Rhodey. He felt like he wasn’t going to like the answer he was about to get.

 

“Steve told me on the way there, basically as soon as we were in the air. He pulled me aside and told me what happened that night in the elevator. It was pretty hard to hear. Steve looked very torn up about it, even more so after I expressed my displeasure that he didn’t tell anyone.” Rhodey still looked annoyed, eyes narrowing slightly while he looked at Tony. “I felt bad for you, Tony. I felt bad you put yourself in that situation, that you’re back to being that unhinged boy from before everything happened. I think you have to go and talk to them. I think you have to go back to rehab, too.” Tony snorted at the last part. He could see the tension and frustration in Rhodey.

 

Some part of Tony knew this would end with him going to rehab, though he refused to give in at first. “I don’t need to go anywhere. No more cocaine or any other hard drug for that matter. We’ll keep weed as a once in a blue moon type of a thing, though. Obviously. I’ll stop drinking, too. See? No need for rehab. I told you I have it under control, that was simply bad timing, Rhodes.” it even sounded like utter bullshit to him as he said each word.

 

“Tony. You told me the other day you don’t think you can stop this. You’re fucking shaking from not having a drink! I can see every sign of withdrawal on you. I can see every sign that you’re too addicted to these drugs to simply detox and be okay! You’re going. Pepper has found a place.” the colonel's voice was stern as he folded his arms across his chest, coffee was forgotten about in front of him.

 

Anger almost pushed him to say some petty things in response. The idea that it’s been arranged for him annoys him, he doesn’t want to leave and go through it all over again, he doesn’t want to do it. His friend is right, though. Tony did say the other day he couldn’t do it and even now, his throat aches for something and his hands are shaking. Even if he doesn’t want to, he has to go. No point going kicking and screaming, not when he’s already lost so much of his self-respect and reputation. He’s a drug addict loser now.

 

“I know how you think and you probably think I’m disappointed in you, but please believe that I’m not. I’m disappointed that you can’t see yourself how I see you, you can’t believe you’re a good person, that you’re _not_ your father. You don’t have to rely on substances to pretend you don’t feel anything.” the man across from the mechanic shakes his head when he finishes talking, lips turned down in a frown. “Friday also needs to be back up here if you want to urinate in peace ever again. Should I give you a moment to speak to her?” when Tony nodded to the colonel, the man stood up and left the room.

 

Left alone in silence, Tony knew he had to face her eventually. If Friday was anything like Jarvis, he would have to be more honest than he wants to be and he can’t sugarcoat things to her. It should be easy to do with her. There’s a resistance in sharing himself with his AI when he’s like this, though. Since Ultron, he gets stuck on what would happen if something sinister happened to Friday? If something ever happened to this AI he wouldn’t stand a chance. He has to force himself to push past it and find the trust he had in Jarvis, in his work and the loyalty he knows Friday has to him as her creator.

 

“Friday. I’ve been a real dickhead lately, to you especially. I’m sorry I took away your privileges up here to protect my ass. It probably shouldn’t be so easy to do that,” he can’t help but say out loud. He shouldn’t be able to override those functions - look at what it leads to. “I’m also sorry I made you lie and ignore everyone for my own selfishness. I’ll give you back your full access. Please don’t be angry at me.”  his voice was so quiet in the open spaced penthouse. It was much easier to admit some difficult truths when he was alone, talking out loud. He did feel remorse for taking his anger out on the AI, she has only ever tried to look after him and live up to his expectations. “I should’ve been grateful to you for looking out for me instead of casting you away.” he all but whispered, knowing she can hear his every word.

 

He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for an acknowledgement of some kind. He knows there’s no point looking upwards, everyone does when they’re talking to her, though. That’s how Rhodey found him when he got back. The colonel cleared his throat to get Tony’s attention, watching the mechanic jump slightly at the sound. “Do you want to go and talk to the team now, or later?”

  
The question sent shivers down Tony’s spine. Talk to the team. _Talk to the team._ Talk about everything that’s happened and why before he’s shipped off. He isn’t sure how the rest of them will react and it sets him on _edge._ They were going to hate him after this, just like he hated himself and then he’ll be sent off to deal with the fact that he’s disgusted everyone who’s known him and the thought makes him want to throw up all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and support.  
> I got stuck on this chapter, it took me a while to find out where I wanted this to go.  
> I hope it's alright.  
> xx


	12. Something's Leaving Me Behind

Tony was starting to sweat. He could feel it across his forehead and down it was slowly rolling down his back. There were too many sets of eyes on him while he sat at the dining table on the communal floor of the tower. Rhodey was sitting next to him, their knees touching. It was helping to ground him, stop him from bolting the second anyone opened their mouth. Probably why Rhodey was offering the small, unnoticed by anyone else, comfort to him.

 

Did he have to be the one to start this conversation? Isn’t being here enough to deserve a fucking  _ medal  _ given that every part of him wants to be in a different country right now. It was  _ they  _ who wanted this sit down or intervention, whatever you want to call it. He had no idea what it was going to be or how it would _ end _ . There was a tension in Tony that he couldn’t shake, he was wound up extremely tight while he was sat there in the heavy silence. His eyes slid to Rhodey’s, nudging his knee roughly to prompt him. Somebody had to break the ice and why not a neutral (alright,  _ slightly  _ biased) peacekeeper? 

 

The colonel cleared his throat at Tony’s nudge, then all eyes were quickly darting to the older man who broke the silence between them all. “I know this isn’t a situation anyone could have predicted a few months ago, but we’re here now and there’s no point avoiding it any longer. Something has to be done, or we will end up losing another team member.” Rhodey’s voice was calm, trying to set the tone for the rest of the team.

 

“I feel like Tony should be the one do something about it, Colonel. This is his mess after all.” Tony didn’t expect to hear Barton’s voice during this, he’s usually reserved with his opinions. When he looked at the archer, he was met with a blank stare. No emotion to show. It stings, there were moments when they shared a blossoming romance based on the stupidest practical jokes. Thor, who joined in from time to time in their mostly harmless fun, instantly began to protest at Barton’s words.

 

“Watch what you say, Barton. Stark is struggling and he is in need of support. Do not damage him further.” Thor spoke deep and loud, talking as if Tony wasn’t sitting at one end of the table. He appreciated the support and knew it came from the mistakes Thor feels he made in the past, with Loki. The God’s rough relationship with his brother has put a toll on Thor, a burden he clearly struggles with in situations like these. 

 

“Thanks, big guy. Barton’s right. This is my mess, I got myself into it. I’m not asking for anyone to make excuses for me.” It was difficult to keep it together while he talked. There was a growing list of things he’d rather be doing than this. “I chose to resign and push you all away. I don’t think I should be allowed back on the team, ever. Seriously. Barton’s anger is justified, seeing as I created a fucking  _ monster  _ that threatened not only us but the whole of humanity! Have you all forgotten that? Fuck,” his outburst shocked almost everyone at the table. Natasha is never phased unless she chooses to be. He was breathing hard, head hanging down slightly. “Nobody can say I don’t deserve what I’ve willingly put myself through. I’m  _ fucked up  _ and I’ve killed a lot more people than everyone here with what I’ve created and put my name to. What does it matter, really, if I spend the rest of my most likely short life snorting it away? You can still have my money, Pepper runs the company perfectly without me. I feel like I’ve done enough damage as a superhero and it’s time for me to give it up, for good.” there was no sarcasm or anger anymore, he was hurt and he had voiced it in front of everyone. Showed them all how deep his pain runs and he refused to cry, even if his eyes are filling with tears. He can’t do that here and now. 

 

“Do you think we see you as our bank?” Steve’s voice was slightly raised and Tony didn’t dare look up at him. He couldn’t deal with it right now, he was going to spiral into panic mode. “Really, Tony? You’re not just an investor, you’re _ Iron Man _ ! We  _ need  _ you on the team, you’re a great asset to us. I.. I didn’t know how bad this was when you left the team.” when Tony finally looks up at Steve as he finishes talking, it looks like the captain wants to say something else to him like he’s biting back more. The captain looks at Tony with such sadness confusion, it’s like he doesn’t believe it’s really Tony that is the man sitting in front of him, saying these upsetting things. 

 

“Nobody knew because I didn’t want them to know. I still don’t want anyone to know, but look where we are, Cap. Does it upset you? Are you upset I lied to you, that night? Why do you still care when I chose cocaine over you?” he’s bitter now, words harsh and cruel to take a stab at the captain. It’s unnecessary and petty, the hurt on Steve’s face didn’t feel worth it, really, though it’s too late now. Rhodey shakes his head at his friend in disbelief at his words.  

 

“What is he talking about, Steve? God, Tony, cocaine? That’s what you’ve been up to?” Bruce interjects before Steve can even finish processing the cruel rant he’s been through seconds prior. “This is insane, Tony. You’re not yourself, look at you! Stop hurting everyone so you can ignore all your problems.” his voice is softer and calmer than the two other men, the scientist's eyes were soft when he met Tony’s watery eyes. 

 

“He’s talking about the night in the elevator when I came back after a bender. Steve caught me in the act. I tried to blow it off, make it into less of a deal than it was because I had it under control. I didn’t need anyone else to know and it worked. He believed me.” Tony is staring at Bruce as he talks, ignoring the way the captain’s head falls slightly and his shoulders slump. It isn’t hard to miss the super soldier's reaction as he’s sat next to Bruce at the table, Thor is on the other side of the scientist, mouth slightly open as he looks at Tony in disbelief. 

 

It went quiet, then. Tony took a second to calm himself down before he forced himself to keep going. “Yes, Bruce. Cocaine. Pot, ecstasy, acid, and god knows what else. I can’t really give you a comprehensive list, as I can’t remember much from the last few months - I haven’t  _ wanted  _ to. It’s a blur of drugs and parties, honestly. Nobody should be surprised, my struggle with addiction is well documented with S.H.I.E.L.D, I’m sure. This won’t be the first time I’m sent off to rehab, probably won’t be the last. Nobody should feel bad for me like Barton said, this is my mess.” he shrugs his shoulders then, feeling like some pressure has come off his shoulders now. 

 

“I support your decision to seek treatment, Man of Iron. When you return I hope to hear you talk as if you want to be  _ here _ , on this team again. You are a smart and honourable man, do not let your hardships destroy your mind.” Thor nodded at him and his words stuck with Tony for a few different reasons. He wants to tell the god that his mind is already destroyed. 

 

Bruce is next, stumbling over himself as he rushes through his words. “It should be the last time, Tony, you deserve better no matter how poorly you think of yourself. We will be here when you get back, you’re still apart of this time. No matter what. We’ve all made mistakes here and they’ve all cost us on some level. Ultron wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t any of ours.” there was a small smile on the scientist's lips, a hopeful yet sad smile. Bruce knows the guilt he’s carried and he’s always tried to offer the mechanic a shoulder to lean on, though it was refused more often than not. 

 

Clint remains silent, staring at Tony like he’s never seen him before. Like he’s a completely different person than the one the archer knew during the events of Ultron, which he is. Natasha looks between the two of them before choosing her words wisely. “He’s angry there wasn’t an easier solution. Ultron has been hard on all of us, don’t take his misguided anger to heart. Come back a better man.” Barton opens his mouth to contradict her, he’s guessing, though whatever insults are prepared never make it out. The pair of spies stare at each other intensely and Tony would bet money that if he looked under the table, Natasha’s heel from her boots was helping to keep the archer quiet. “Clint will work on himself too. We all will, we’ve failed to be there for you. It’s one thing to push yourself away, it is on us that we did nothing to stop you. We all have to deal with that.” her voice was like ice as she stared at Barton, then, slowly, the rest of the team were put under her gaze. She lingered on Steve, making the soldier cringe slightly.

 

Tony could feel how serious this was to her even if she was at the other end of the table. It surprised him, coming from her. They shared a something of a relationship for a while before she was known to him as Natasha, though it soured a little once he learnt of the extent of her lies. It was unnerving she could be someone else so easily that it was hard to trust her. They respected each other, though, so maybe that’s where it’s coming from. “I didn’t make it easy for anyone. It isn’t fair for me to drag you all into my fucked up life,” he laughed, harsh and short. It wasn’t funny. If he didn’t laugh it off he would fucking  _ cry  _ or throw up again, he wasn’t sure. 

 

“I think we should go now, Rhodey. We’ve all had a lovely chat and unless there are anymore pressing questions, I want to get out of this situation.” he looked around the table at the superheroes, waiting for someone to try and continue this. He was so fucking tired and he isn’t capable of any more of this right now. Not while he’s this _ painfully _ sober.

 

“We’re leaving now, then. There’s a long drive ahead of us.” Tony feels his stomach clench at his friend's words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm nervous about posting this one! I know people are waiting to see what would happen.  
> I wanted to meet somewhere in the middle with this, not completely civil but not wild out of control. So, hopefully, it's been a satisfying chapter to read.   
> I'm torn between writing Tony in rehab and skipping over a lot of it.   
> What do the people want?


	13. You're Not That Much Like Me

 

There were no emotional drop-offs when he said goodbye to Rhodey. It’d be a few weeks before he saw anyone he knew, he guessed. The  _ treatment  _ facility, not another rehab, was actually quite beautiful. It was modern, and a dull white. Lots of tall glass panels and clean, harsh lines. The dark green garden growing around the large building was an unexpected contrast. It doesn’t look like the typical rehab centre, bland and old. This place looked expensive and luxurious, like something Tony would have sketched out once upon a time. 

 

He was nervous, tense and full of sadness at the reality of being in this situation again. Tony wanted to beg not to be sent away,  _ don’t leave me alone with my mind, please, _ is all he can think of as his friend embraces him. It should be easy to wrap his arms around his friend and enjoy the last few moments of his company, though Tony feels like he’d never be able to let go if he lifted his arms. His head hurts, his body tired. He felt like fucking shit and this was the last thing on his to-do list. 

 

-

 

“I can’t believe you, Clint. Didn’t you see how messed up he was, did you have to hurt him further?” anger was threatening to cloud Bruce, he was feeling beyond heartbroken after seeing Tony. There was never a bone in his body that blamed Tony for Ultron. Did he think Tony handled thing a little wrong? Maybe, yes. That doesn’t change the friendship he felt between the two of them, a brotherly bond of science and the hardships they’ve faced both together as well as on their own. “Do you feel better now? Did you get the satisfaction of seeing him broken?” he wanted to hurt Barton, hurt him for being so cruel to a very smart and kind, although arrogant and lost, man. It was hard to keep himself focused in moments like these. 

 

“I have to say, I am in complete agreement with Banner. You were out of line, Hawkeye. You are rather lucky Natasha spoke before you could damage things further. Stark needs us, we cannot fail him. We are his family.” Thor’s words were deep, his love for the Man of Iron was clear and obvious to everyone in the room. There were times when the god would find Bruce, usually at the most random hours of the night, to ask him how Tony was doing. Especially once Iron Man left the team. Thor has been growing increasingly worried about him since then. 

 

“I didn’t know how bad he is.” came Clint’s response and it did nothing to help the anger Bruce was fighting off. It had been an hour since Tony left, roughly, and they’ve all be sat in the communal living space. It took a while to process what had happened and while Natasha and Clint talked, everyone else remained silent. Until Bruce broke that silence. Oops. 

 

He shook his head as he paced in the kitchen, scoffing at the lame excuse Clint gave. “So, because you didn’t know how bad he’s struggling, it’s okay to hurt him?! What the fuck? Ultron wasn’t his fault, I was in the lab with him too! I knew what we were trying to do! Have you forgotten that?” He was yelling by the end, hands flat on the kitchen counter as he’s stopped to yell at the unexpecting archer. He’s almost unable to keep his emotions in check, it’s hard to be calm when it’s this bad - when his friend is hurt this bad and  _ struggling  _ so much _.  _ Struggling with his emotions, the drugs, the excessive booze and parties. It’s wearing him down into a former shell of the once cocky and witty man Bruce and others all the others enjoyed so much.

 

“That isn’t what I meant. I just.. I can’t believe he is fucking himself up so much to deal with everything. I didn’t know. I thought he was enjoying himself, that this partying was because he survived and didn’t give a shit about what had happened to everyone else.” Clint’s shoulders dropped and he turned away from the rest of the team from his seat on the couch, staring out over the city. “I guess I needed to believe he was the usual asshole he is so I could put all my anger over this into him. It was wrong of me.” he stood up and walked off after he finished speaking, Natasha watching him leave carefully.

 

Bruce guesses he was going somewhere high up to be alone with his thoughts, though he was still angry at the archer. Unreasonably now, maybe. He still felt it. Sometimes there was no way to stop it. All he could do was breathe and focus on keeping himself together and whole to stop himself from losing it. 

 

“I want to know about this elevator incident. Now.” Natasha was quick to move on, her voice cold and sharp as she stared Steve down from her spot on the couch that wasn’t far away from the archers. The captain was sitting at the table still, head in his hands.  

 

When he looked up at Romanov, he looked incredibly tired and defeated. He was quiet in the large room. “I asked Friday to let me know when he came back. I wanted to confront him and ask him what he’s been doing and it happened late at night. He was on the way to the penthouse and when I stood in front of the elevator I didn’t think he would be doing  _ that _ . I didn’t know exactly what drug it was, not that it matters. He had a bag full of it. I took it off of him right then and there. He looked like he had seen a ghost. It was all over the back of his hand and his nose.” Steve stops, looking down at the table again before speaking again.

 

“He basically begged me not to tell anyone. Gave it up on the promise I wouldn’t tell anyone. He promised me that’s all there was and he wouldn’t touch it again. I told him if I found out he was I’d go  _ straight  _ to Rhodey and Pepper.  I thought... I didn’t... I thought maybe it was a one-time thing and he’d been caught, so why would he do it again? It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. I failed him because I’m an idiot. He didn’t look okay and I let him go anyway. I’m sorry.” Steve sounded like a hurt puppy and Bruce was glad he was feeling guilty.

 

“It isn’t us you should be apologising to.” Bruce tried not to sound mean, though the way Captain America looked at him as he spoke made it clear his tone was a tad harsh. Every part of Bruce tried to rationalize why the soldier wouldn’t tell anyone, why he kept it to himself like it never happened. “Didn’t you know he’s been an addict since his teenage years? Jesus, Steve! I can’t believe this, what the fuck happened to Captain America, the do-gooder and self-righteous leader? Did you stop giving a fuck because it’s Tony?” Bruce was breathing deep and hard, turning away from Steve since it was growing harder to look at his face. Maybe it was time to leave. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going. It was a poor decision on your behalf, Rogers. I’m disappointed. Not only in you, however. All of us. He was our friend and  _ we  _ let him down.” he was quick to walk out of the room, leaving them all to think about what he’s said, anger forcing him to isolation. There is so much rage and sadness he can’t stop himself from feeling for his best friendom, it's probably best to work his way through it alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a bit different. How are we feeling about it?  
> Thanks for your lovely comments in support, it is so nice to see after a long week.


	14. Would You Do It All Again

In the first week after Tony entered into treatment, the team was still tense with each other. Hawkeye’s anger had simmered down, his anger morphing into self-hatred and shame. Everyone felt like they let Tony down, multiple times throughout his downfall. They didn’t cause an uproar when he left the team, they didn’t hunt him down when he left repeatedly for weeks on end, location unknown. Sure, they could blame it on being busy and being a  _ superhero,  _ though that’s an excuse. It’s the easy way out when they all lived in the same building most of the time. It was neglect. It was selfishness to ignore what was obviously going on. 

 

Bruce struggled to sit with the discomfort that came with everything he was feeling. There were so many times he wanted to see if the genius would come to his lab for a ‘science sesh’ as he called it instead of Tony staying holed up in his own lab alone, the pair only floors apart. When he chose not to, it was mainly because he felt like a hindrance to the slightly younger man. Watching Tony work is amazing, he is so fast, he’s basically a machine and Bruce can’t keep up with him sometimes. He is always moving, talking, listening to music and drinking if they’ve been stuck in the lab for more than twelve hours. It was easier to stay alone. That’s how he’s always felt since the other guy appeared. 

 

If he could go back, he would. He would force himself to go to the billionaire and request they spend time together. It wasn’t like he had to be talked into being with Tony, it is a natural friendship between the two, he simply has to get over his own paranoia and fears. Look at what it leads to, the complete breakdown of their friend mainly unnoticed. We all knew but didn’t think it was this bad, couldn’t imagine him being caught with  _ cocaine  _ all over him, even if it is in his past. He’s seen Tony drunk hundreds of times now, though hardly high. Only when they’ve smoked pot together, which was a once in a very blue moon occasion. There’s no disgust or judgment of what the billionaire has been up to. He’s never been able to judge Tony for anything other than his petty, although witty, remarks. 

 

Rhodey came to Bruce first. He was upset, tearful. The man wouldn’t stop talking about how he felt that this was all his fault, he was weighed down by the burden of his own guilt. Together, they sat in the scientist's lab as Rhodey cried and Bruce listened, trying to assure the other man that their beloved friend chose to push himself away, and although we didn’t try to pull him in, Bruce wasn’t sure if it would have stopped Tony at all. Neither of them were. All they can do now is be there and support him, help him keep it together and live a happy and stable life he’s been capable of before.

 

-

 

The only thing he was grateful for was a double bed. He hadn’t had one in any of the previous places he’d been shipped off too. Perks of being a billionaire drug addict, he guesses. Right now, he was being monitored as his body detoxed of any remaining substances. He went from being cold to sweating profusely, shaking and waking up almost screaming during the first night. It was hard to be shut off in isolation, his mind cruelly torturing him with vivid memories back to wild nights and sinful habits that would fix everything for him right now. The harsh reality of where he was sent him into a numbing sadness, his thoughts making him unable to leave his bed for what felt like an eternity. 

 

He wishes so badly he had some music to listen to. Something to drown out his  _ endless  _ thoughts. It was easy to spend half of the second-day sleeping and now it’s nighttime and he’s practically wide awake. He was feeling more like himself now, any shaking and hot flushes subsiding which was definitely a blessing for him during this trying time. Now his physical health was on the mend he assumed it would be time for his mental health to be assessed and dealt with, by a professional. That’s why he’s here, to fix the crazy and rebellious self-destructive part of him. 

 

-

 

They both agree that they need to speak to someone. They can’t help Tony to their best ability if they were sending themselves downhill with guilt and self-hatred. It will be hard for Bruce, though he knows it’s for the better. He knows he’s going back to his dangerous ways of thinking and if he lets it go he will snowball, very similar to how his friend did. Pepper helps organize it, putting them together with people she’s had waiting for them to rely on when the moment came, to their surprise. She admits it’s something Tony has insisted on, for the whole team from a very early stage. After New York, basically. Even miles away, Tony’s generosity continues to astound the two men.  

 

It will be a slow process for both of them. Rhodey told Bruce that even though he knew he would regret it, Friday filled him in on what exactly Tony had gotten up to, largely. Besides the moments where there was no connection between the two, although Rhodey can guess what happened. None of it shocked the colonel, really, he’s seen his friend in worse states than Bruce ever has. Held his friends head out of the toilet while he pukes and made sure to stay with him if he was really bad so he didn’t choke on his vomit. The love Rhodey has for Tony is so clearly evident in his words and his tears for their friend. It was his raw and deep emotions that were devastating to see. 

 

Within a week they were in doctor’s offices on either end of the town. There was a large part of Bruce that was worried about the simmering rage he always feels beneath the surface, the other guy itching to get out. Talking about these things was hard enough in front of the team already without flipping his lid. He meditated the length he usually does this morning. Listened to the sounds of the rainforest during the drive downtown. He was as zen as he could be in this moment and that was what mattered the most. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. New month, new chapter! Time got away from me. Life got in the way also. It's a bit shorter. I thought I'd rather this chapter be a bit of a filler and point us in the right direction. No, it defs won't be all sunshine and rainbows from here on out. It's a bumpy ride, recovery.


	15. It's Nobody's Fault

“If I was in your shoes I think I would be a bit of a wreck too, Tony. Has anyone ever said that to you before?” His doctor's question was simple, although it perplexed him a little when he couldn’t think of a time when anyone had said something like that to him, it’s always  _ come on, you’re Iron Man!  _ And  _ you’re a billionaire - how hard can life be?  _ Rhodey might have come close to something like that.

 

It’s hard to word what he wants to say, his mind lost in his thoughts. “Nobody understands I’d trade it all for a normal life, whatever that means these days,” he looks out of the window of the small office they sit in, Tony unable to look at his therapist while he talks about how he feels. This occurs a lot during their time together. It’s their seventh sit down in the three and a half weeks he’s been here. Ruby, his doctor, is a kind young lady. She has dark blue hair and tattoos covering her arms. Tony didn’t expect her to be the one taking him on, she’s much younger than him and Tony doesn’t want to admit to some of the things he’s done to her. 

 

It isn’t like him to feel shy or embarrassed, although he can’t help it. His thoughts are dark and sinister, voicing them to someone who seems so full of life seems cruel to him. He doesn’t want her to look at him with sadness and concern, he gets it from everyone he knows already. The constant sadness smothers him more than anything else. He is aware he’s a sad case, full of hatred and repeat breakdowns. She’s surprising him, though. She asks the hard questions without flinching, without being disgusted or saddened by his brutal answers. It has helped, to voice these thoughts. He’s started writing things down too, not by choice in the beginning, mind you. They’ve read his notes, if he’s comfortable to share them, and talked through whatever he was feeling in those notes. 

 

Once the thought has hit paper, he can’t hear it rattling around in his head anymore. It isn’t some incessant ever-present thought that won’t  _ shut up _ all day and night. He finds himself writing about his day and then he’s writing about New York and how he can’t sleep most nights without waking up because of it still and he hasn’t been able to share those ones with Ruby yet, he knows she knows they’re about New York - it’s the only topic he can’t talk about without freaking out and leaving her office. 

 

It’s been hard to adjust to being in the facility. He hasn’t seen anyone yet, no contact with Friday even. The forced silence is much harder than the imposed silence, it seems. He feels the loss much deeper now.  He wonders how they’re doing now he’s here, they’re worlds slightly rocked by the drug-fuelled breakdown of their landlord, basically. It’s doubtful Iron Man can be welcomed back onto the team after a stint in rehab, which he has been open about with Ruby. Maybe it’s for the best, giving him up for good. She thinks he needs to get back in the suit before he can make that decision. One issue at a time.

 

During his time here, there’s only been one meltdown so far. During the first week, he refused to leave his bed for therapy and when they tried to make him get up, he turned into a stubborn two-year-old.  He won’t tell anyone it lead to him being sedated. He’s had better moments. It’s been hard to try and open and up to the help, accept that he can’t live the life he feels like he wanted to live. He isn’t sure if he wants it anymore. Sometimes all he wants is a big glass of scotch. He wants it to be waiting for him when he gets home. 

 

-

 

“Thor! What the fuck! He isn’t here, leave them alone!” Clint was yelling as he ran towards Thor who’s in the kitchen, in front of the sink. Tipping out beer bottles one by one. 

 

“It does not matter if he’s here or not, I will not allow you to disrespect the owner of this tower. We are in his home, Barton. This is disrespectful.” Thor was angry and disappointed, insistent on enforcing the ban on alcohol in the tower. It’s the right thing to do for Tony.

 

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Clint huffs. “It’s my beer, it’s only a six-pack and  _ the alcoholic isn’t here!”  _ when he reaches to take one of the last bottles from the god, Thor chooses to drop the last three bottles onto the floor in front of the archer instead, watching the liquid spread across the floor as the bottles smashed in between their feet. “Jesus fucking Christ, Thor. Thanks.”

 

“Have you learned nothing? Have you not seen how bad Tony becomes once he’s around this? It should not matter if he is here or not. He has gone to seek treatment from this and yet  _ you bring it into his house.  _ I have not seen such a lack of disrespect since your outburst at him before he left.” his voice was low as he growls at the archer, anger flooding through him at the complete entitlement that he didn’t know Hawkeye was capable of. “I thought you were aware of how misguided your anger was when you saw him. You heard him that night and yet you  _ still  _ act like a child. Clean it up.” there was no room for arguing with Thor as he walked away from the archer, anger rolling off of his back. 

 

“Wow, Clint. I told you not to bring them into the tower.” Natasha’s voice almost made Clint jump as he thought he was alone in the kitchen. He should’ve known she would have appeared to hear the commotion without being noticed. It was hard since he was still stunned at Thor’s anger-filled outburst towards him. 

 

“I think I just really fucked up, didn’t I, Nat?” he already knows she’s going to say yes. He can’t think of anything except how Tony looked that night before he left. The bags under his eyes were almost black and he looked like he’d lost a few sizes. He looked sickly and tired, although Barton wasn’t ready to hear him talk like that. So devoid of emotion when he talked about  _ snorting his life away  _ and all the drugs he’d done. Yeah, he’s read the files on the billionaire, but it’s one thing to read and it’s another thing to see someone who’s had such high highs experience rock bottom with your own eyes. Someone you’ve worked alongside, joked and pranked around with. The words are coming out before he’s thought it through fully. “I think I have to go and see Stark.”


	16. Just Let Me Know

It’s been almost twelve weeks since Tony had left and it was only now they were letting people in to see him. Rhodey said it’s the longest they’ve had to wait before and he was reluctant to be letting the archer go and see him first, after everything. He gets it, he isn’t offended by the obvious anger held towards him. Clint knows he’s been a dick, Natasha has told him time and time again. Now that time has passed since the beer incident, all he’s been able to do is think about his actions and he’s unable to stop thinking about how he’s been apart of Tony’s self-hatred too. Fuelling Tony further down the dark path he was travelling with his lack of sympathy and care for the older man. 

 

He wonders how Tony will look as he pulls into the car park of the facility, the image of stoned, drunk and completely fucked up Tony burns in his eyes. The hurt and anger that was clear across his face as he told his former family around him that it probably wouldn’t be the last time he’s sent off. There was a lot that changed for Barton that night and he struggled to deal with all of the new-found emotions towards the man he loathed after Ultron. It was easy to pin it on Tony, on his mind that is so smart and dangerous all at once. If he didn’t have to deal with the trauma of it, he wouldn’t. He was a fine line between sanity and losing it after Loki after all. Anger has been his main emotion, it’s what has pushed him to get out of bed and it’s made him a better assassin than anything else has lately. 

 

It’s time to get out of the car before he’s late, although it’s hard to get his hand on the door. It’s hard to get his ass off of his seat. Facing his mistakes is hard for him, even if it has to be done. He has to tell Tony he’s sorry, no one else can do it for him and Clint knows he’s sitting in that facility waiting for a visitor, completely sober and going through what he can imagine is an intense program.  He isn’t allowed to fail Tony again, so he opened the car door and decided to bite the bullet. 

 

-

 

He would be lying if he said his skin wasn’t shaking with nerves. Another sitting room he hadn’t seen before in this huge place. More waiting. This time, he was seeing someone. Tony sat in one of the armchairs in the small room, his case manager seated behind him. Since they wouldn’t be divided by a wall or anything along those lines, someone had to watch what happened. There were cameras in here too. Heaven forbid he would be slipped anything. Tony can say he feels different than when he entered here. His head and thoughts are becoming clearer still, more focused and there wasn’t so much negativity within him. The anxiety was still a major problem he was struggling to deal with now there was nothing clouding his mind. He was pretty sure he could have gone into cardiac arrest when they brought Clint into the room. 

 

It was a shock to see the archer in the doorway, his face giving away no emotion to the staff who had shown him to his current destination. The man merely nodded at them in thanks and waited for them to leave. Before Clint could move to sit down, Ruby was standing. “Hi, Clint. I’m Ruby, I’ve been looking after Tony during his time here. I’m going to be sitting in during this meeting and we’re also being watched through the camera in the corner to your right, just so you know. I’m not here to take notes or butt in, although I will if needed, I’m merely here as a support for Tony. I keep his best interests first.” If Tony thought he knew her as well as he did, he’d say that was a subtle shade to Clint as she extended her hand with a professional smile across her face. 

 

The man in question didn’t bat an eye at her, his gaze shifting back to Tony when his doctor had finished talking. It was hard not to squirm under the archer’s intense stare, he felt confused as to why the other man had come - he made it clear how he felt about the situation. “Clint, hello. Why are you here? Is everything okay?” Tony forced the words out faster than he had meant to. Where was Rhodey? Bruce? He couldn’t help but rub his hands together, a million thoughts rushing through his head. 

 

“Everything is fine. Rhodey has reluctantly let me come. It’s been a while since you left and I have a few things that I owe to you to come here and say if that’s okay with you.” The archer eventually sat down across from Tony when he nodded in acceptance, uneasiness heavy in his stomach at what the other man wants to tell him so badly. 

 

Clint looked uncomfortable in the armchair across from himself, his leather jacket and all-black ensemble makes him look out of place against the simple and plain wardrobe he has here. He can tell Clint’s shoulders are tense as he opens his mouth, words failing to come out for a brief moment. “I blamed you for everything, after Ultron. All I could see was death and destruction and to me, there was one man responsible, the creator of it all. It all led back to you in my mind. 

Pietro’s death. Wanda’s suffering. The deaths of everyone in Sokovia. We all destroyed Sokovia. I didn’t want to face that there was now more blood on my hands too. It’s never bothered me before, this is something I do for a living, although I snapped after Ultron. It’s been hard since Loki and that isn’t an excuse for what I did to you, Tony. He made it hard for me to think rationally. My head wasn’t my own. I can’t place all of the blame on you, however, when it wasn’t just you involved. You wanted to create something to help the world.” Tony watched Clint struggle with his emotions, something he doesn’t see from the assassin very often. There was no easy way to process what was being said to him, he didn’t know where to start. 

 

“It wasn’t your fault. I really fucking wasn’t and  _ I’m sorry  _ I was a dick to you, I’m sorry I put all of my misguided anger onto you. Seeing you that night at the tower changed everything. I don’t want to see you like that again, Tony. I don’t want to see you so broken. I rubbed salt into your wounds that night and I’m  _ so _ sorry.” his eyes were crystal clear as he stared at Tony, trying to make him feel how sorry he was and the mechanic did, he felt his honesty. 

 

Tony really didn’t know what to say, he was trying to process everything that’s been said and it shocked him. He’s talked about what happened and Clint’s anger a few times with Ruby and he’s worked through it and slowly wrapped his head around the shift in their relationship and now the younger man has thrown him for a loop. He never expected an apology, no matter how much his doctor tried to tell him he was entitled to one. “This is a lot. You don’t need to apologise, Clint. I didn’t think you would want to have much to do with me again. I’m happy you’re here and thank you for saying it wasn’t my fault. There are moments where it feels like it was solely my burden to bear alone still. I don’t know how I looked to you on that night, I wasn’t in a good place. I am not sure if I’m in a good place now, but I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I was a dickhead and I wanted to hurt all of you. I thought I’d be better off left alone with all the drugs my money could buy me.”

 

“And now?” Clint pressed him gently to answer, searching Tony’s face almost desperately as he thought of his answer. Ruby was sitting right behind them. 

 

“It’s hard to change years of a certain way of thinking. It’s a work in progress. This is the first time I’ve put any real effort into a program, honestly. I haven’t been sober for this long in I don’t know how long and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it. I.. I don’t know.” It was the truth, he didn’t know. Some moments he convinced himself he could live the rest of his life sober, settle down with Pepper and build a life together. Then there were times when he knew there was more death, more trauma that always seems to follow him around. It’ll push him back down this black hole of suffering. Lately, he’s been feeling numb, his emotions overwhelming him to the point that he shuts down. There’s no feeling of enlightenment or a new lease on life now that he’s sober and a  _ work in progress.  _ It’s stirred up more emotions and issues than when he was high as fuck. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting my ass into gear, I'm spending my week of holidays attempting to push out a few chapters and see where I'm taking this thing. I'm tempted to wrap it up soon and work on part two.....
> 
> No, I don't know the workings of a rehab facility. Roll with it.


	17. When You've Had Enough

There was a feeling of tension with Tony’s answer to Clint, with his indecisiveness on his new found sobriety. He felt bad he couldn’t tell him he never wanted to touch them again, because he wasn’t sure. There was no point in making half-hearted promises for his friends sake. His journals reflect his constant battle between his thoughts and his dark desires, the pros and cons of the lifestyle everybody tells him he can’t maintain. He knows it destroys him mentally and physically, though that doesn’t stop the thoughts. It isn’t that easy. 

 

“I’m sorry if that isn’t what you were looking for, Barton. It’s a small weight off my shoulders now I know how you feel, if that helps. I want to rebuild my relationships and I know I have to be sober and honest for that to happen. It’s always easier to block out the hard stuff, though. That’s why I’ve turned to alcohol.” He hopes the archer can appreciate the fact that three months ago he wouldn’t have said that out loud in such an adult, mature way. He rubs his growing facial hair, trying impossibly hard to read the man across from him. There’s a lump in his throat growing. “When I went through.. When I went through the wormhole, everything changed. Life itself changed for not only me, but everyone else on this planet. Something is coming and I don’t know what. Ever since then there’s been a deep need to protect what we have. It drove me into complete desperation to make Ultron and when he turned out to be a monster, I blamed myself too. It drove me insane. All I could see was the blood of every innocent person I wanted to protect.”

 

There were tears running down his face and he felt betrayed by his eyes, he didn’t want to cry in front of Clint. His eyes were glued to the floor between the two men. If Barton could come here and be brutally honest with Tony, he deserved the same in return. “I didn’t want to face my failure. I still don’t. I need to find healthier ways to deal with it all, obviously. I’m not going to leave here and spiral again, even though it plays on my mind most of the time here. It would be so easy, Clint, so easy to go back to the sleazy clubs and dirty hotel rooms filled with illicit substances. It’s tempting. It felt  _ so _ good, even though I was in pain and depressed. There were moments of happiness, of absolute ecstasy and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that. It was easier to rely on drugs than to rely on my teammates.” his voice is quiet and hoarse from the tears and emotions stuck in his throat. Tony stared at that archers black boots, unwilling to face him now. 

 

Nothing was said as Clint reached out and placed a hand on Tony’s knees, causing more tears to spill down the mechanics face. “There may have been moments of happiness, though they weren’t genuine. You blocked out every bad emotion and we could all see that. We failed you. We won’t fail you again. We’re waiting for you to come back fighting and we will have your back every step of the way. Tony, I’m proud of you. I’m proud that you won’t want to spiral again. There’s so much love for you, we’re your family. You’re my brother. Thor is obsessed with you. Bruce is struggling with you being away. You’re allowed to lean on us and rely on us, that’s what a team is for. When you come out, we will help keep you clean. Whatever you need. We can keep you sober and maybe one day we can get Iron Man back. I don’t think we can protect the world without him.” The archers voice was soft when he spoke, almost as if he didn’t want to scare Tony. He won’t tell Barton his heart began to race at the mention of his superhero persona. That was something he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. 

 

“I’m sorry to cut this short, however time is up, boys. I’m going to have to ask you to say your goodbyes and get ready to leave, Clint.” Ruby’s voice made the genius jump, he had totally forgotten she was sitting behind him this whole time. Therapy will be interesting tomorrow. 

As soon as he was standing, there was arms wrapped around him and he doesn’t think Barton has ever hugged him before. It took him a second to respond, arms wrapping around the younger man as he let himself be comforted briefly. “Tell Thor I miss the big guy,” Tony whispered to him, his voice husky in the small room.

 

“He’s going crazy without you. Hardly stops talking about you,” Clint laughed and Tony couldn’t help but smile in return as he thought of the god worrying over him. 

 

As they pulled away from each other, Tony met the other man's eyes. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come, I’m glad you did, though. It means a lot to me.” 

 

Clint nodded at his words, his tone serious as he spoke for the last time. “I meant every word I said to you. I will stand by you from now on, I want to help make up for the hurt I have caused. I’ll see you on the flip side, Stark.” with that, the super spy left the small room and it was Tony and his doctor, the silence stretching on for what felt like an hour. 

 

“Do you want to sit down and have a talk about what’s just happened?” Ruby asked politely, she was a very soft spoken woman when she wanted to be. It was comforting. “I have some time right now, or you can swing by later this afternoon. I think that went well.” 

 

-

 

“I never expected Barton to come. That would have taken a lot for Rhodey to agree to, he’s always been the first person in to see me. I’m glad he came. I’ve been convinced he was going to hate me forever. The night before I came here he was full of anger, the look on his face was horrible and I couldn’t blame him for how he felt about me. I felt like that too.” It was easy to talk to Ruby now, their time together and the topics they discuss have forced him to be comfortable with her. 

 

She nods and scribbles notes as she listens to him, tapping her pen against her notebook as she contemplates her next words. Tony has picked up on her small habits. “You have people who genuinely care and wants to see you achieve your best it seems. Do you think with their support you’ll be able to get back into the suit one day?” she’s watching him closely, gauging his reaction to the mention the rarely discussed topic - going back to being a superhero. 

 

Instantly, he’s nervous. His hands start to feel clammy. They don’t talk about this often. Even after all this time it unnerves him having to go back into the suit one day. He knows he can’t leave it to collect dust forever. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’m scared of the responsibility. I’m scared it’ll lead to more deaths and the thought of shedding more blood that isn’t my own hurts me. If it was solely me, I think I would be fine with dying in the suit if it meant saving the world. I just can’t handle the growing list of victims that Iron Man and all of us superheros, really, have created.” It’s true. His voice shakes as he says it, even though it’s what he’s always thought since New York. “You don’t know what it’s like to be responsible for so many deaths that could have been prevented.”

 

“You’re right, I don’t know what that burden is like. I can’t imagine what the weight on your shoulders is like carrying all of this death with you. It took me a very long time to let go of the one death I was responsible for. It was a car accident, although I convinced myself it was my bad driving. That was what caused me to spiral.” Ruby pauses, looks out the window behind Tony and takes a deep breath. “Our stories are very different, obviously. My problems have never had to do with outer space or Norse gods. Have you ever thought about how many lives would have been lost if you’d sat back and let Ultron carry out his plans?”  

 

There’s shock at his doctors revelation, although he does his best to hide his surprise at her admission. “Yes, I have, but he could have been prevented. If I hadn’t tried and rushed to create the program, if I had waited or maybe calculated differ-”

 

Ruby cuts him off before he can continue. “No more what ifs, you need to stop getting lost in the countless what ifs and the endless different scenarios that could have happened. Tony, nobody could have predicted New York. None of us could see something like that coming. This is the stuff from movies. Without you and the Avengers, we would be living in a totally different world. The same goes with Ultron. Even if he was created in your building, what if you and the team hadn’t been there to stop him? Where would the world be now? How much would humanity have lost if he went through with his plans? I don’t think you’ve really stopped to think about it. You’ve taken your pain and ran with it, although there’s a bigger picture here. These people had to die to save the world, just like you want to save the world from whatever is coming. It is inevitable that we will lose more people in the battles to come. That sacrifice does not go unnoticed by us, even years later we will owe it to those who have fallen and the heroes who worked hard to save us, put their lives on the line willingly to help us.” There was passion and sadness mixed into her words and they struck a cord deep within Tony. 

 

“I don’t want anymore innocent people to die. I am blamed for the deaths from my time in the weapon industry, which is completely fair and now I’m told by so many that the deaths from Ultron are my fault and I can’t help but wear them, they shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have let him happen.” He hangs his head, unwilling to accept what his doctor is trying to get him to see. He feels like he’ll always go around in these circles of self-hatred and blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just let me know when you've had enough - Dawn Chrous, Thom Yorke. Beautifully depressing song.


	18. Keep My Skeletons In

It was surreal to be coming back to the tower after all this time. Seven months and a week, give or take, is a long time to be cut off from this life. The hustle and bustle of New York City, the comfort of his home. It was hard and there were days where Tony thought it wouldn’t end. He couldn’t see an end to the doctor visits, prescriptions and worse of all, being forced to reevaluate his life and get in touch with his emotions. He’s a different man, sure, although he knows that other side of him is still within him. It’s been smoothed over, pushed backed inside of him until all he can hear is Ruby in his head warning him of the danger and lack of self-respect that version of him had. 

 

He’s hardly seen anyone besides Rhodey and Barton. His friend made it clear that this was time for Tony to heal and there was no point having people come and stick their noses in something so private and hard for the genius, something Tony deeply respected. They didn’t need their opinions of him changed any further than they already have been. It’s hard, sitting in one of his ridiculously priced cars in the garage. He’s not quite able to leave it yet, knowing there are people waiting for his return many floors above him. When he left here he was beyond a hot mess, he was coked up and drunk, reeking of pot, women and booze. He was unshaven, unkempt and generally  _ dirty.  _ Now he’s here, clean and  _ refreshed _ \- which sounded weird to say. 

 

Eight months ago he would have laughed in your face if someone suggested getting clean, he was convinced that destruction was his one true path to be rid of all of his demons. Even though that meant giving up all of the  _ good  _ in his life. The difference now is he believes there might be some good for him in this life, whereas rock-bottom Tony didn’t think it would be possible. It’s a daily struggle between him and this other side of him, and it’s taken more than a few journals to really document the differences and positive attributes a sober Tony can bring to the table. Things really began to take a turn for him after Batron’s visit, which is probably why Rhodey let the archer see him. Ruby forced him to process the visit, think deeply about the message the other man was trying to get through to him. 

 

Tony’s words were honest when he spoke to Barton, he didn’t know if he was in a good place then and even now it would be lying if he said he was in a  _ good  _ place. He’s in a stable place, he feels, which was also hard to come to terms with. Stability. Mentally and physically. There’s still work that has to be done, there always will be, that’s what comes with addiction and mental illness. He jumped when Rhodey cleared his throat from the driver's seat, pulling Tony from his never-ending thoughts. Like he said, he’s a work in progress. 

 

“I’m happy to sit here for however long it takes, I’d like to know what’s happening in that head of yours, though.” his friend spoke calmly and soft in the small confines of the car and Tony felt the deep love he has for Rhodey and embraced it. He owed so much to the man in front of him. 

 

The back seat was roomy and quite comfortable, though that didn’t mean they could live in it forever. Just like the last time he left, he would have to face the music now he’s returned. They deserve an apology and to see that he’s back and he isn’t the same. “I’m thinking about the last time I was here. I’m anxious about having to see them all, even though it’s completely different this time.” he’s trying this complete honesty thing, no more sarcastic responses to cover his ass. It’s tricky. 

 

His friends smiles, eyes locking with his through the rear vision mirror. “Tones, it is different this time. You’re on your way back to being you and they just want to see you, don’t forget they’re anxious too. Nobody wants to overwhelm you. It is going to be laid back and relaxed, so don’t hype it up to be a big deal. They’ve all been rooting for you.” Rhodey opens his door there, stepping out to open Tony’s for him. “Come on, we can do this.” His friend holds his hand out and Tony pushes through his nerves, through the worry and uneasiness. Together, side by side, they walked to the open and awaiting elevator. He tried to remember everything Ruby had said to him about to calm himself down. 

 

They rode up in silence, standing too close together in the large elevator. Their shoulders were touching and Tony listened to his friends breathing, deciding to stop overthinking and focus on his own breathing. Friday was quiet, a small blessing for now. He knows they aren’t in a good place yet and that upsets him, his relationships with his creations almost more important than the ones he has with most humans. There was a squeeze of his hand, stilling latched onto Rhodey’s, and he squeezed back. Tony Stark, newly sober and trying not to be a basket case, is ready for this. 

 

-

 

When the doors opened, there wasn’t a large group of super heroes gathered in the hallway to greet him like he pictured. Instead, he could hear the TV in the background and maybe even a little bit of laughter. Friday didn’t announce his presence, instead leaving the doors opened and the light inside the elevator slightly dimmed. He knew this was her way of letting him enter at his own pace and he almost smiled at the thoughtful gesture. Somebody was cooking. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through to them and it finally compelled him to step a foot outside of the elevator, hand still tightly clasped in Rhodey’s. He couldn’t let go yet.

 

Slowly, they walked down the hallway. The uneasiness in his stomach was joined by hunger, a confusing mixture that meant he kept walking forward, just very slowly. Tony hated how he still felt fragile and unsure of himself, yet he couldn’t help but be hesitant when approaching this situation. These people have every right to hate him and be angry at him, though he’s learning nobody holds the anger that he believed they all shared with Barton. There’s another burst of laughter from the lounge room and before he can walk around the corner and see them all, he pauses and rests against the wall. 

 

Rhodey is there with him, up against the wall. Shoulder to shoulder again. “Tones, you’ve got this. Steve wanted to cook for you. They’re trying to make this as less painful as it could be for you. You set the pace, you do whatever you’re comfortable with doing.” quiet, hushed words together as Tony began to struggle next to him. “Just breathe.” 

 

He didn’t even realised he had started to hyperventilate slightly. This was embarrassing. They were still hidden in the hallway and he was freaking out already. It was hard to get a grip on himself, lost in memories of being fucked up and his cruel words in front of everyone he had once considered family. It took a few moments to slow himself down and think about how far he has come from then, something these people in the next room deserved to see. He owed it to them at this point. They stood together until Tony wasn’t misty eyed and his breathing was back to normal. “Okay, I’ve got this,” he whispered before letting go of his friend's hand and forcing himself off the wall he was leaning on. 

 

When he rounded the corner, Bruce was the first one he saw. In the kitchen, back towards Tony, standing next to Rogers as they stared at whatever was happening in the pan on the stove. Thor already had his eyes on Tony, walking from the dining table not too far in front of Tony to right in front of him in a couple large strides. Nothing was said as the god placed his hands on the mechanic’s shoulders, looking at his friend up and down as if to check it was really him, he was here in one piece. “I am so glad to see you, my friend.” was all Thor said to him as he embraced him, almost hugging the life out of Tony. He let himself enjoy the care and love that this god was trying to squeeze into him. 

 

When he pulled back, he could see Natasha’s eyes on him in the distance. It was no surprise it was Barton and her lounging on the couch, laughing and relaxing together. She nodded at him, a smile playing on her red lips. In return, he nodded. Thor still had his arms on his shoulders and it was like he was afraid to let go of him, of the Tony that stood in front of him with a clear mind and bright eyes. “I’m here, buddy. I’m not going anywhere.” He said to the much older man, rubbing one of his hands that sat on his shoulder. It felt like he was walking back into his home. 

  
  



	19. Tell Me It's Real

Lunch was served. Bacon, eggs and pancakes all cooked by the resident mother of the group, Steve. Tony had barely ever made eye contact with him as he watched the super soldier dish up the food and take it all to the overly large dining table. It was clear to Tony that the two of them had to sit down and speak about what happened that night, forever ago now it feels. He used Rogers for his own selfish needs and it wasn’t fair to twist the man like that for Tony’s own dark needs. Thankfully, Steve seems to sense his feelings and has kept his distance from him. It isn’t like the two would hug and laugh together on a good day. They’ve always been at arms length with each other.

 

Tony sat in the same seat as the night he left, the rest of the team surrounding him to consume the delicious looking and equally great smelling feast that’s been prepared for his return. Nobody has spoken yet as they fill their plates, Tony waiting patiently for everyone to pick what they want before diving in. Rehab has made him used to eating three meals again, which shows from the weight he has gained during his absence. Thor was sat close to Tony, stealing glances at him every chance he can get. Surprisingly, it was Bruce who broke the slightly awkward silence first. 

 

-

 

“I think I can speak for everyone here when I say we are so glad to have you back, Tony.  In your time away, we’ve all taken steps to make sure that we help you succeed in your recovery. For too long we’ve put each other and this family on the backburner. It almost cost us losing you to make everyone at this table realise that. Let’s eat and talk later.” Bruce did his awkward half smile and everyone seemed to listen to him, he could feel Tony’s eyes lingering on him but he didn’t want to make the mechanic feel pressured to respond. There was time for conversations after food, once the slight tension himself and a few others were feeling had left. 

 

It was good to see Tony. It had been a long and harsh seven months for the scientist, battling with his own demons brought up a lot that Bruce had been pushing down for a very long time. It’s worth it to know he is in a place where he can help his friend and his teammates, instead of being unsure of everything he says and does. He can see the changes in his science buddy and it excites him to see him healthy, the images of Tony from before flash through his head and he makes himself focus on the man in front of him. There’s colour in his face, which is fuller, something he’s so thankful for. He looks the cocky man that used to shut everyone down with a simple line or two. 

 

His eyes aren’t cloudy, they aren’t glassed over with substances and pain. There’s no torment across his features. His shoulders aren’t sagging down with the obvious guilt he was crumbling under like before. There’s pre-treatment Tony and post-treatment Tony. Two different people, clearly. Bruce wonders how much of him has changed besides his outside appearance. If he’s still battling with the world, or if there’s a little bit more peace inside that powerful mind of his, it’s hard to say without talking to him. Over the last few months he wishes he’d come down to find Tony in his lab, excited by something happening in their field. 

 

Thor and Barton joke around, earning themselves a few small chuckles from Tony. Bruce can feel the tension leave the room when the man they’re all concerned over responds, everyone feeling comforted by the sound of genuine laughter. As he eats his way through his eggs and bacon, his eyes find Natasha’s. There’s a sparkle in there, a small light that wasn’t there this morning as they sat together and discussed how this day could play out. The pair of them have grown close and it’s the first time in a very long time since he's opened himself up to the idea of a relationship. Of love. It scares him immensely, it’s something he’s been dying to talk to Tony about, actually. 

 

It can wait, though. Natasha knows he’s working on himself, bettering himself and it’s long overdue. If he does want to let her in he has to be the best version of himself, there needs to be stability in his anger with the other guy. Even if she is a trained assassin. She smiles at him behind her glass of orange juice and it feels like she can read his every thought as her plush lips turns upwards in an alarmingly seductive manner and he can’t help the way his face heats up under her gaze. 

 

There’s a chuckle between Barton and Tony, although when he turns to look at them, Tony’s eyes are glued to him. There’s something going through his head and Bruce can see the wheels turning, can tell he’s onto something nobody else has picked up on yet. “So, Brucey, what have I missed in the science world?” the question catches him off guard and he stutters, looking between Tony and Natasha as her smile widens. 

 

“Surely you don’t want to bore everyone else at the table. There’s been a few things going on, you’ll have to come down to the lab to check them out. I’m working on something right now and I could use your insight,” it isn’t a lie, there’s a few projects left abandoned in his lab that Tony would help him solve. He’s kept them for the older man, something to help him ease back into the swing of being at home. 

 

“You know I’d love to. My brain could use the exercise.” 

 

-

 

After, when Steve is alone in the kitchen washing the stack of dishes leftover, Tony can’t help but approach him. They’re alone. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about  _ stoned-out-of-his mind Tony _ in the elevator, lying through his teeth to get Steve to fuck off and let him crumble. Even though there’s always been some tension between to two of them, maybe this is a chance to ease that, bury the hatchet and work on being on the same playing field. The soldiers back is turned to Tony and he watches him wash each plate with care, gentle movements coming from a man capable of such destruction. “So, it’s been a while,” he says casually, unsure of how to approach this situation although he knows he has to.

 

The other man doesn’t jump, nor does he turn to look at Tony. He’s thankful. “Yeah, it has been. I’m glad to see you looking so healthy, really, Tony.” his tone is hesitant and it’s clear he’s put a lot of thought into his words. 

 

Tony moves to stand next to Rogers at the sink, keeping enough distance between them so he doesn’t make them uncomfortable. It’s awkward for both parties, right now. “I owe you an apology. More than one, maybe. That night in the elevator.. It wasn’t about you. It was about using you to get what I wanted. I wanted to be alone in my self-destruction. If you had told anyone, I would have lost the drugs. The instability I thought I was thriving on. I.. I am sorry, Steve. It isn’t much. It’s all I can offer you right now. Whenever I think back to that night I’m disgusted with myself. I must’ve looked like a real mess.” he can feel Steve’s eyes on him but he looks forward, out the windows and at the buildings in front of him. It’s easier this way. His words are rushed in some areas, still unable to linger on what he’s done. What he was capable of.

 

Eventually, he forces himself to look at the man next to him. Roger’s eyes are watery, his shoulders hunched down. He looks fragile in this moment. Devastated. “I have so much regret from that night. I was so stupid. I thought I was doing the right thing by you and how stupid of me was that? I wish I had said something, stopped you from spiralling into whatever was going on with you. Tony, you looked so sad. Haunted. I just.. I jus-” Steve takes a deep breath, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “I failed you. I’m meant to be the Captain, I’m meant to take care of my team and I was foolish enough to think that keeping your secret would keep you close to us even though you’d pushed us all away already. I was so stupid. I am so fucking sorry.” Tony can feel the self-hatred Steve has for himself in his words, the face that the patriotic soldier swore is a sign he’s clearly not okay. He’s only heard that language on the field, rarely. 

 

It takes the mechanic a while to think of a response, stuck with his apology circling in his brain. Steve shouldn’t apologize to him, not after what he did. How is he standing there apologising to him? Doesn’t he see what he did? Why isn’t he angry at him? “I don’t understand. Aren’t you angry at me? I lied to you, used you. Steve, I treated you like shit. The last thing I expected was an apology.” he sounds as stunned as he looked, he’s guessing. The man next to him wipes his tears away, beginning to shake his head before Tony had even finished talking.

 

“You were in a dark, rough place. I should’ve stepped in and helped. I let an addict lie to me and that’s my fault, not yours, Tony. I was sober. I know right from wrong. It felt wrong, but some part of me believed I was helping somehow. That’s crazy, isn’t it? So, I’m apologising and it still doesn’t feel like enough. We’ve had our differences and I want to work through it. I want to be a better man. If you can do it, I can do it too.” 

  
  
  



	20. I Don't Like Leaving

When the lights illuminated the penthouse, it was like he hadn’t even left. It was spotless and it felt like home even after all this time away. Slowly, hesitantly, he walked over to his bar. Tony knew what he’d find - nothing. Before he had even arrived at the rehab centre, Rhodey and Pepper would’ve been here and they would’ve emptied out everything that had alcohol inside of it. There was, however, a packet of Marlboro reds and a lighter sitting on the bench of his empty bar. Trading in a vice for a vice, it seems. He isn’t sure who got them for him, but that doesn’t stop him from taking one and wondering out onto the balcony. 

 

The last time he was on this balcony he was definitely stoned. Can’t remember if it was marijuana or coke, maybe both. It’s all become a bit of a blur to him now, parties and drugs. Sex and pain. Alcohol to drown his sorrows, pot to help with the hangover and cocaine to keep him awake and on another fucked-up lever, further away from all of his problems that were looming in the background. Most of his problems are still there. There’s even some new ones. His stint in rehab hasn’t been dragged through the media yet, thanks to Pepper Potts, who doesn’t owe him a damn thing yet still helps him regardless. He wonders when he’ll see her, what he’ll say. There’s so much left unsaid between them.

 

It’s hard to think about, the idea of a life with her at arm's length. Not that he could ever blame Miss Potts, not after what she’s seen from her ex-lover. If he were anyone else she would have kicked him to the curb and never looked back, though their situation is different. They’re intertwined thanks to his business that she runs and has done an excellent job maintaining. She’s smart, business savvy and knows how to make money while spending it wisely, on the things that matter to not only herself but the environment. People in need. She’s pioneered clean ups from missions, resources S.H.I.E.L.D never sent out to people affected by their actions. It’s a godsend.  _ She’s  _ a godsend that he took for granted far too often. 

 

The cigarette hangs loosely between his lips as he stands on the balcony, it was quite a pleasant night out. There was no cold wind and the stars are beginning to peak out now that the sun was setting. It’s the transition time between night and day, something beautiful which he remembers appreciating in run-down hotels rooms across the murky parts of town. It’s bittersweet knowing the bar is empty, void of his favourite overpriced liqueurs. There was a small fortune back there. He doesn’t want to jump straight back into it, of course not, there’s eyes watching his every move. Ruby tried to shake the idea that it’s inevitable that he’ll turn back to the amber liquid, yet Tony knows himself and his family's history. Sadly, it will happen. 

 

Maybe that’s simply the addiction talking. Maybe he’s born to live exactly like his father, alcohol running through his veins until the day he died. He’s a Stark. Nobody can change the emotions and memories he turns to when he thinks of Howard, the only man who could change that is dead. Even while he was alive, his father held such little care for him. All of his accomplishments now wouldn’t change that. Tony can imagine how estactic his dad would be to see Steve if he was still alive, how Tony had always wanted to see that look of joy on his face from one of his own creations, something tangible and real, yet it never happened. There was always a void inside his father and he feels as if it’s been passed down to him, nothing is ever enough to be able to fill it. 

 

Suddenly, the cigarette was finished even though it felt like he had just lit it. He’d forgotten how smooth they were, how the nicotine made his head feel a little lighter. It isn’t the same as anything else he’s put into his body. He wonders how close to death he was. When would his body have given up? Another couple of days, months, years? Sure, he’s getting older now, his beard becoming more salt than pepper. Has he pushed his body closer to his death now? He’s pretty sure everyone is surprised his liver is still intact, really. Making his way back inside, it’s surreal that he’s now finally alone. After months of being monitored or having someone in the room with him, it’s night time and it’s simply him on the top floor of his tower. 

 

Ruby prepared him for this. The uneasiness and uncertainty in himself and his surroundings. The desire to run away again, overwhelmed by the list of emotional tasks he has to work his way through now that he’s back in the real world. Seeing the team and apologising to Steve means he can cross two off of that list. There’s still the obvious: Pepper, his suites and his ongoing sobriety. Those are the main three. It’s unclear to him if he’s stable enough to reach out to Pepper. What if it sends him into a panic attack? He doesn’t even know what to say, really. Are there words to make up for that terrible things he’s done? It hasn’t been a usual break up, to say the least. Normally there isn’t superheros, excessive trauma and betrayals involved. 

 

Tony decides on a shower. Clear his mind, wash away the anxiety looming in the pit of his stomach. “Friday, can you prep the bathroom for me?” he says, already heading in the direction of his room. Heated flooring is one of the greatest inventions to mankind, he thinks. She’s silent yet the way to his room is lit up, which shows she’s heard him and is listening. Even if she’s programmed to listen to him and follow his instructions, it’s clear that all of his creations have personality and feelings, even if they shouldn’t. As his lifeline and guardian, Tony knows another apology is due now that he’s back. They left on rocky terms, much like he did with everyone, and it’s only fair when she literally looks after his life. 

 

“I meant every word I said to you. I shouldn’t have cast you away. You’re the most important part of this tower and I took what you would do for me for granted. I’m sorry. I’ll spend a long time making it up to you, I’m sure.” It felt natural to talk out loud to himself again as he sorted through his extravagantly large closet, settling on sweatpants and a band t-shirt. Something comfortable. He tossed the clothes on the bed, unsure if he’d receive an answer as he headed to the shower. 

 

As he turned on the water, maybe a little too hot, the lights dimmed every so slightly and his creation finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re okay, boss.” was all he needed to hear to bring a small smile to his face, a half-smirk that lasted throughout his shower. He’s glad he’s okay too. Even if there’s so much up in the air, questions that need to be asked and answered. Situations he’s going to find uncomfortable and unsettling, scenarios that will tempt him back into the arms of temptation and destruction. He might make it out alright if he can keep his shit together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. As you can see, we have reached the end here.   
> It may be unexpected for some yet I wanted to finish this at a nice 20 chapters. I don't want to push this too far.   
> In saying that, though, there may be a part two coming for this series.   
> I'm thinking about going into fixing relationships, life after rehab and maybe even the events of Civil War..  
> Who doesn't want more Tony angst? I'm all for it, obvs. Let me know what you guys think.  
> Hopefully no one else thinks I rushed this. There's still a lot of loose ends which are neccessary for another part, i feel. Feedback is appreciated.


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